Lost and Troubled Souls
by CubbiesFan1
Summary: The Enterprise responds to a distress beacon on an unknown planet in an unchartered sector of space. What Captain Picard and the crew find there is nothing what they imagined.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters. The original characters in this story do belong to me.

 **A/N: This is my first Star Trek fanfic, so all critiques/comments/suggestions are welcome.**

 **A/N: I am resurrecting this story after many, many years. I deleted the original and am reposting, giving it a fresh start from the very beginning.**

 **I've always wanted to tell this story that has been playing out in my head for a long time now. After getting back into watching The Next Generation and reviewing this story last night, I decided to pick it back up again with the intent of making it better. I hope it will be enjoyable as I know I will enjoy writing it.**

 **A/N: I imagine this story taking place around the Season 6 timeframe.**

 **Lost and Troubled Souls**

 **Chapter 1**

Captain's Log: Stardate:

 _The Enterprise is currently on route to the Belax System, an uncharted sector of space deep within the outer reaches of the Alpha Quadrant, in response to an emergency distress beacon received. Currently, the beacon has only been identified as Starfleet. Origin or ship designation currently unknown._

"Bridge to Captain Picard,"

Captain Jean-Luc Picard sighed as he paused his entry. Seated in his ready room, Picard leaned back and tapped his comm badge, "Picard here. Go ahead, Number One."

Commander William T. Riker's voice blew through the unit. Riker, Picard's first officer, always presented himself with an air of authority and respect. His voice was no different now, "Sir, We're coming within visual range of the planet that beacon is emanating from."

Picard was already out of his seat. His ready room was just off of the _Enterprise_ 's main bridge. He was stepping through the automatic doors just seconds after Riker had

finished speaking. Picard's eyes went to the main viewscreen that filled the entire front panel of the bridge. A white planet was rapidly coming closer into view.

Riker was already standing, moving from the command chair. The Captain remained standing. "Report, Number One."

"Sir, working to pinpoint the source of the beacon now," Riker puffed his chest out a little and tilted his head.

"What can we tell about this beacon?" Picard asked to no one in particular.

Data swiveled in his chair. The android kept one hand on his console as he spoke, "Sir, we are running the signal through the _Enterprise_ 's computer, however from what is being transmitted it appears to be an old style request for assistance message. It continues to repeat on a loop every ninety point two four seconds. It has not changed since we first received it."

"Location on the planet?" Was Picard's next question.

"Running those calculations now, Sir."

Picard assimilated the information. He asked the next question, "Can you determine who is sending the message?"

"That is what is somewhat perplexing, Captain," Data started.

"Explain, Mister Data," Riker prodded.

"The message appears to be an old Starfleet message. One that has not been used in over six decades."

"How is that possible?" Picard rubbed his chin. "From all accounts Starfleet has never explored this region."

"Unknown, Captain," Data answered evenly.

"Could be a lost ship," Riker threw in. "Thrown off course by some anomaly? Little is still known about this region."

"Or something that was scavenged by pirates," Lieutenant Worf, standing on the raised dais behind the command chairs added, "there have been reports of piracy in these sectors in the past. It was also a contested region of space during the wars between the Federation and the Klingon Empire."

"The war has been over for many years, Mister Worf. And no pirates have been reported near this sector for over fifteen years," Data countered. A beep from his console turned Data's attention back to his controls. "Sir, the computer has pinpointed the beacon's location."

"Life signs, Mister Data?" Riker asked, jaw set square.

"I am picking up life signs of unknown origins, Sir. There appears to be a strange weather formation forming near the beacon's location. The interference is making it difficult to decipher the readings."

Picard turned to his second in command, "Number One, prepare an away team. Be ready to depart the moment we are within transporter range. If there's a crew stranded down on this planet somewhere, we need to be ready to react. I don't need to remind you about the Prime Directive in regards to native inhabitants."

"Yes, Sir," Riker nodded.

"Be careful, Will," Picard threw in.

"Captain, the _Enterprise_ will be within range in seven minutes, thirty-three seconds." Data stated.

"Very good," Picard gave a curt nod. His gaze wandered back to the view screen. He felt a faint shiver run along his spine. Years in space and he still reacted with a tinge of anticipation and even apprehension whenever the _Enterprise_ and her crew embarked into the unknown.

Picard took a seat, adjusting the bottom of his command tunic as he did, "You have your orders."

Riker tilted his head to nod slightly then looked up to Worf, "Mister Worf, you're with me."

Picard watched two of his finest officers depart. _Godspeed, Will._

* * *

With a frown, Riker tapped his combadge, "Riker to Captain Picard,"

He'd had only departed the bridge minutes before. Calling his team to transporter room three. Now the plans would have to change.

Riker sighed inwardly before he spoke, "Captain, the transporter room is reporting that due to atmospheric conditions the use of the transporters is currently unsafe. However, we can take a shuttlecraft to the surface. The sooner we get down there and assess the situation, the sooner we can report back our findings."

Riker swore he could hear the Captain stroking his chin, _"Agreed, Number One."_

Riker spoke as he exited the transporter room and made his way to the turbolift that would taken him and the away party to the shuttlebay. "Mister Data, send the coordinates to the _Columbus_."

"Coordinates sent," Data chirped through the combadge only moments after receiving the command.

Next Riker signaled the away team, rerouting them to the main shuttlebay.

* * *

When Riker stepped into the bay, the rest of his away team was already present. One of Worf's security officers, Ensign Rhodes, stood near the shuttlecraft _Columbus_. He was speaking with the away team's medic, Lieutenant Sandy. Doctor Crusher had requested to stay aboard the ship in the event that they did find survivors in need of immediate care and was preparing the _Enterprise's_ sickbay. Sandy, a young human male with short brown hair would serve in Crusher's place. Counselor Deanna Troi hovered near the craft. Riker's brow furrowed. He had not requested her to accompany the team.

"Counselor," Riker spoke through pursed lips when he reached her.

"Commander, I'd like to accompany the team," Troi stated with a firmness that was difficult for Riker to dismiss.

"We don't know the conditions down there," Will responded in an effort to quell the Counselor's request. As the away team leader he could give the order for her to stay behind, but he'd found Troi's determination once her mind was set a difficult thing to combat.

"Exactly," Troi nodded. Riker led her a few steps away as she continued to speak, "We do not know the conditions and if there are survivors they could be in a troublesome and even strenuous state. I can assist with keeping the situation calm. Not to mention, if we do come across native life forms, I can assist."

Riker couldn't argue with her logic. He kept his focus on her eyes as he pressed his lips together and nodded. "Alright."

"Thank you, Will," Troi replied, a soft smile emerging on her lips. Before Will could say more, she turned and joined the rest of the team.

They were treading precariously, skittering the edges of the Prime Directive by going down to a planet without ascertaining the alien life and its technological levels. If Troi insisted that her unique empathic abilities could aid the team in the event they did come across aliens and needed to determine the intentions of those aliens, then Riker could use her on the team. He and Troi were no longer a couple, yet he still hated seeing her rushing into potential harm. But Troi was a Starfleet Officer and could handle herself.

Riker joined the team. Ensign Rhodes immediately turned his attention to the Commander. "Sir, Mister Data reported that temperatures on the surface could be as low as -6 degrees Celsius," Rhodes gestured toward the crates of cold weather gear next to the group. "I suggest we bundle up."

Riker frowned, he was never a fan of the cold. He started to don the cold weather clothing, as did the rest of the team, _This keeps getting better and better._

But he kept the thought to himself and simply mused, "Makes me wonder what's really going on down there."

"If someone did crash land on the planet, let's hope they were able to find some shelter." Troi remarked sympathetically.

"Right," Riker agreed.

Once the team was dressed, Riker made sure to conduct one final check of his team's equipment, including tricorders, phasers, and Sandy's medical bag. Once all was in order the team loaded into the shuttle and prepared for departure.

* * *

"The storm is interfering with our navigational instruments," Riker grumbled.

"Shuttlecraft...land mass...indicate…" The _Enterprise's_ transmission came in garbled then suddenly cut off all together.

Riker fumed. "Why do these things never go as planned?"

A jolt rocked the small craft, sending the passengers hurling to the side. "Damage report," Riker barked.

Worf tapped the control panel, "A massive lightning strike appears to have hit us, Sir."

"How did it penetrate our shields?"

"I don't know," Worf growled, "but shields are down to fifteen percent and the right nacelle is malfunctioning."

"Reroute internal power," Riker ordered. Then asked, "How far to the landing coordinates?"

"Two minutes," Worf grumbled. "However, navigation just went off line."

"I guess we'll have to land visually." Riker choked out a laugh.

"Sir?" Worf turned his head, studying Riker with a look of confusion.

"Won't be the first time, Lieutenant." Then to everyone he said, "Hang on, it's about to get bumpy."

"Bumpier than it already is," Troi smirked.

Riker took over manual control of the craft. Using visual acuity he peered out the windows, looking for an ideal spot to set the damaged ship down. Another lightning strike flared off to the left and the shuttle lurched to the side.

"Shields down to five percent," Worf grumbled, "inertial dampers are off-line. Life support failing,"

"Reroute all non-essentials to life support." Riker ordered. He hoped to have the ship down on solid ground soon, especially now with life support systems damaged. His main objective was getting the craft, and his team, down safely. Figuring out the extent of the damage could come later.

As the craft descended below the eye of the storm, Riker could see the snow capped mountain ranges jutting out all around their landing zone. If he had a moment to appreciate the scenery, he would consider it a beautiful sight, but that too would have to wait.

"Look over there," Riker jerked his chin at the windows, "that shoreline appears the best place to land."

Riker kept his eyes on the approaching ground. A large body of water extended out beyond the mountains and as the craft drew nearer the mountains began to give way to rolling hills and massive forests. Everything was covered in snow. The lake itself wasn't frozen, but the water appeared black, with large white waves breaking the surface. Even as the storm disappeared, the sky remained grey and bleak.

"Hang on." Riker hollered. Maneuvering the craft with the aid of the controls was difficult enough, but doing so manually and using only his eyes to land truly tested Riker's skills. When the craft contacted with the ground, the jolt of the impact was bone-jarring, but welcome. They'd made it to the surface.

Riker took a moment to exhale before prying his hands away from the controls. "Everyone okay?"

The rest of the away team mumbled their responses and Riker looked over at Worf, the Klingon staring back at the Commander with a look of awe. "That was quite a landing, Commander."

"Nothing to it, Mister Worf." Riker cajoled, slapping a hand on the security officer's shoulder for good measure. He heard Troi snicker from her seat behind him.

"Cabin depressurized," Rhodes reported. "Tricorder readings report outside air at normal levels of oxygen. Safe for breathing."

"The beacon?" Riker asked.

Rhodes studied his tricorder, "based on our current position, we have a bit further to go. It appears the storm damage threw us off course. Tricorder readouts indicate we came down on the wrong side of that mountain range."

"Great," Riker rolled his eyes. Tapping his comm unit, he tried to raise the _Enterprise_ , "Away Team to _Enterprise_ ,"

Nothing. Not even static.

He tried again, "Riker to _Enterprise_. Come in _Enterprise_."

Still no response.

With a huff, Riker remained calm, "Looks like the storm is still interfering. Let's get moving. We can try to raise the ship the higher up we go."

As the away team filtered out of the ship, Riker caught a look from Troi. "What is it? Are you sensing something?"

Troi shook her head, "No, but I just had one of those feelings."

Riker cocked his head. He'd learned to trust Troi's "feelings" over the years. "What feelings?"

"Like something is about to happen."

"I don't like bad omens, Deanna." Riker said while motioning for her to exit.

"Neither do I, Will, but that doesn't mean they aren't present."

Riker set his jaw and decided it was best to not respond. At this point, whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He just needed to ensure the team was prepared for any eventualities.

Outside the shuttlecraft, Riker shudder. The temperature was just as Data had reported, if not colder. Strong winds gusted off the lake in their direction. Scanning their surroundings, Riker felt a sense of quiet dread wash over him. _Probably just a response from Troi's statement._

The grayness of the planet's surface was made all the more dreadful by the silence. Only the wind and the lapping off the waves filled his ears. Looking down he saw the shoreline was made up of small, black pebbles, worn flat by erosion. Snow blanketed the landscape and Riker could not tell just how deep it was. Looking up, he saw the grey sky, the storm they'd passed thru gone from his vision, but Riker knew it was still there, interfering with the ability to communicate back to the ship. The wind kicked up large gusts of snow, spreading the powdery white substance through the air and onto the away team. Exhaling a thick cloud of breath, Riker huffed and blew into his hands. Even through the thick cold weather clothing, he was already getting chilled.

"Reminds me of the Breen home world," He smirked to no one in particular.

Surveying their immediate location, Riker saw two possible routes to the beacon. Off to his left was a row of trees that ran along the shore. To their front, opposite the lake, was the rolling hills that ran out and up towards the mountain range. The route to the right was blocked by a high outcropping of cliffs and rocks.

"Either the trees or the hills," Riker was open to suggestions.

Stepping around the craft's nose, he took a moment to peer out towards the lake. The dark body of water looked uninvitingly cold and he wondered it any sea creatures lived beneath the dark surface. Images of gigantic squids or vicious white whales filled his mind.

 _More Captain Picard's liking than mine_.

"Sir, I still cannot raise the _Enterprise_ ," Rhodes reported, drawing Riker's thoughts back to the task at hand.

"We'll keep trying as we move. And move we need to or else we'll freeze right here."

"It's a wonder anyone could survive out in this cold for long," Sandy remarked. Riker gave the young man a sideways glance. No matter how old the beacon signal was, they had to remain hopeful that there were survivors, or else who would have turned the beacon on?

"Commander," Worf hissed.

Riker looked towards the Klingon and saw the head of security staring at the hills. Worf was tense and his hand hovered over the phaser attached to his belt. Riker allowed his gaze to follow his friend's and soon he saw the same thing that Worf saw.

"Everyone around me," Riker breathed through gritted teeth. "Do not draw your weapons, but be prepared."

Riker felt his team assemble around him as he kept his eyes locked squarely on the hills. A group of around a dozen beings stood atop one of the nearby hills, watching the away team.

The group was silhouetted against the grey backdrop of the desolate sky, making identification impossible at this distance.

"Looks like we found the natives," Rhodes grumbled.

"Deanna?" Riker asked from the side of his mouth.

"Nothing, I can't sense anything."

Riker frowned. Not good. Keeping his eyes on the new arrivals, he studied the beings. None moved. Three sat atop large, furry four legged beasts, similar, yet not, to horses. One of the riders held some sort of pole, a banner attached to the top. The tattered garment flapped in the wind, creating an eerie whipping sound in the otherwise silent landscape. It made Riker shudder.

The closest rider kicked its heels against its beast and the entourage descended the hill. As they drew near, Riker was able to see that the creatures were roughly humanoid shaped. The ones not on the mounts walked on two legs attached to massive trunk like bodies. Their arms were as thick as their legs. What parts of their skin was exposed appeared to be a deep purplish color with streaks of white, but Riker couldn't tell if the streaks were part of their flesh of perhaps camouflage markings. Large heads sat atop their massive necks and shoulders. The creatures had two hoodless eyes, holes for nasal cavities and thin lips with canine like teeth jutting out from both their upper and lower mandibles. Some were covered in thick, coarse hair while others appeared to be completely hairless. The closer the creatures came Riker saw that each had unique facial features and their bodies differed in size, just like most beings he'd encountered during his years with Starfleet. They wore different assortments of clothing, from thick furs to rough spun trousers and tunics. What Riker had at first thought to be armor in reality appeared to be the creatures' actual hide, exposed under their clothing in certain places. He also saw that the creatures were armed with an assortment of crude, medieval style weapons, battle axes, swords, and spears. Two carried weapons similar to longbows. He couldn't determine the sex of the creatures.

"Sir…" Rhodes breathed.

"At ease, Ensign," Riker said, but he couldn't blame the security man for being a bit nervous.

The group reached the bottom of the hill and the lead creature dismounted its horse. Larger than the rest of its companions, the beast stood at least two heads taller than any of the others. Naked from the waist up, it wore only a thick fur clock about its shoulders, leaving its massive chest and arms exposed. It did not appear to be fazed by the cold in the slightest. It pulled a large, fearsome looking battle axe from a sheath on its back. Riker felt his entire team tense, but the creature did not raise the weapon to strike.

"My name is Commander William Riker from Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets. We are looking for our lost comrades. We mean you no ill will or harm."

The creature cocked its head and Riker assumed that the universal translator was trying to work its magic, but the creatures had yet to talk.

With two hands the leader raised its battle axe over its head. Its muscles rippled in response. Riker watched as it sucked in a deep breath through its wicked maw then grunt out a slew of random noises.

Transfixed on the interaction, Riker didn't see Rhodes react until it was too late. The Ensign drew his phaser and pointed it at the axe wielding alien.

"Ensign, No!" Riker shouted.

Rhodes depressed the firing button on his weapon, but nothing happened. He did it again. Still nothing.

The lack of an assault didn't seem to matter to the new arrivals. The leader lowered its axe then made another noise.

Riker heard the swoosh of displaced air before he saw the attack. Rhodes yelped in surprise as a projectile flew through the air, slicing into the side of the security officer's neck. The weapon, a crude spear like device, had been hurled with such force that the impact threw the Ensign back into the side of the shuttlecraft and the spear banged off of the hull, leaving a large gash in the side.

Riker's eyes went wide as Rhodes collapsed. The man was dead before he hit the ground, his head nearly severed from his body.

"Fiends!" Worf growled.

"Worf, stand down!" Riker shouted. When Worf reached for his own phaser, Riker grabbed the Klingon's arm, "I said stand down!"

Worf growled and Riker fought to restrain the enraged Klingon. The creatures were advancing with a swiftness that they had yet to display. Worf attempted to fire, but his phaser also neglected to discharge.

At that moment the aliens were atop the remaining away team. The battle axe wielding leader slammed its shoulder into Riker, dropping the Commander to his knees as the breath was pushed from his lungs.

Riker raised his hands, "Please, this is a misunderstanding."

The creature stopped, cocking its head once more. It then lowered its axe and jutted the end of the blade under Riker's chin. Riker attempted to show no fear. It was a struggle. It was then that Riker detected the stench that wafted off of their assailants. A foul odor that turned up his nose and forced him choke down a gag. His discomfort must have been plain as day on his face as the creature that assaulted him bent its head down and snarled in Riker's face. Riker tried not to flinch when a reddish, green ooze dribbled down the leader's maw, sizzling as it smacked against Riker's coat.

The leader started barking in its strange language and Riker watched as the aliens descended on his team, grabbing them, stripping them of their equipment and weapons, to include their comm badges and phasers. When they're items were all taken away and secured in some sort of leather case given to one of the other mounted aliens, Riker was hauled to his feet.

Rough hands worked to force the away team to place their arms behind their backs. They're wrists were bound. Riker saw that the aliens paid special attention to Worf, as if they knew the Klingon was the biggest threat.

"Just do as they want," Riker ordered the remainder of his team just moments before a hood was placed over his head, cutting off his sight.

* * *

"Any news from the away team," Picard attempted to remain patient. They'd lost contact with Riker during the Columbus' descend and had yet to reestablish contact.

"No, Sir," Data replied, "continuing to hail."

"Keep at it, Mister Data. Have a secondary team on standby in case we need to send another craft."

"Yes, Sir," Data inputted the orders.

"This isn't the first time we've had communication issues," Picard spoke. He hoped by speaking the words aloud it would not only alleviate any internal concerns the bridge crew may have been experiencing, but his own as well. It was never good when communication was lost. "How much longer till the storm passes?"

It is difficult to say with any surety, Captain," Data replied.

"Best guess, Mister Data?"

Data shook his head a little. Picard caught it and smirked. Data made the calculations, "Sixteen hours."

Not a number Picard liked. "I want continuous updates on both the storm and our attempts to reestablish contact. We can't wait sixteen hours, but I do not want to send another team down there and risk the same issues. For all we know, the team is fine and once the storm clears we'll hear from Commander Riker."

"Yes, Sir," Data stated. "Also, standard protocol would guide Commander Riker to continue to make attempts to communicate. He would lead his team to higher ground or somewhere away from the storm in order to raise us."

"Agreed," Picard knew protocol, but it was good to hear it from another of his officers. It helped loosen the knot in his gut that had formed.

 _Just a communication snafu. I'm sure Riker and the others are fine. They know how to handle themselves._

* * *

General Andrej Prazak opened his eyes, the brisk morning air sending a familiar breeze across his bare chest as he woke. Looking to his right, he found his companion still asleep. Her head resting on his shoulder. Her long, luscious curls spread out across the pillows. Carefully, as not to disturb her, Prazak untangled his arms from around his lover to sit on the edge of the bed. Stretching his arms over his head, he worked the soreness from his muscles. Rising, he grabbed a pair of black trousers, pulled them on, then padded over to the open balcony of his sleeping chamber. The morning was cold, but Prazak no longer felt the chill; it had been too long. Peering out over the capital, Andrej Prazak frowned. As the grey morning ascended, he could see the citizens down below, specs moving through the snow covered streets going about their daily routines. Atop the wall his soldiers manned their posts. It would be another fine day and hopefully one without any attacks. However, Prazak knew better than to hope. For some unknown reason his gaze was drawn towards the sky.

After a few moments, he turned from the balcony and stepped back into his suite.

He watched the woman stir. Resting a knee on the edge of the bed, he hovered over her as her eyes fluttered open. Her name was Sa and she was one of the most beautiful women Andrej had ever seen. Yet, she was a noblewoman and nothing more would come of their relationship. At times that left Prazak morose. At other times he simply did not care.

He knew she didn't either.

"The storm has passed," Prazak ran a finger along Sa's cheek. The smoothness of her skin enticed him. "The sun should come out today."

Prazak waited. He had never cared for the nobility of Sardis, yet his position forced him to have to interact with them on occasion. And the previous night had been one of those occasions when he'd found himself summoned to court to report on recent enemy activity.

Of course he could always deny their advances, since he knew that all they truly wanted from him was a night in his bed. Yet he rarely did. He'd convinced himself that after all he had done for these people, he could at least reap some of the benefits, even if the nobility still turned their noses up at him and his soldiers behind their backs.

"Which means you have to leave, doesn't it?" Sa pushed herself up a little, the plush fur blankets on Prazak's bed falling away from her body. Prazak found his eyes wandering up and down her body. "You just returned a week ago, General."

"Duty," Prazak pushed his nose to her neck. She responded with a inhaled moan. "But perhaps it can wait a while longer."

Climbing closer, Prazak positioned himself over Sa. She moaned and giggled as the stubble across his jaw tickled her. Prazak grinned.

The intercom buzzed.

Prazak pressed his eyes shut. _Not now._

"Ignore it," Sa purred and ran her hands under his arms and over his muscled back. She tried to pull him down.

"I can't," Prazak replied.

"You can," Sa countered.

Prazak pulled back and stood. "I can't. You know that."

The intercom buzzed again. He knew who it was. Only one person would interrupt him this early in the morning and only then if something dire had occurred. He glanced towards the entrance to the bedroom suite, the living area opened up beyond. Then he glanced back at the woman in his bed. She did not appear happy.

"Get dressed. You cannot stay here." Prazak told her then left, shutting the door behind him.

Striding through his quarters, Prazak expertly navigated around the furniture without the aid of lighting. He'd been here long enough to know every step. Reaching the entrance, he flipped the switch for the lights at the same time he activated the door.

It parted in the middle. Once open, the man on the other side stepped in, accompanied by a large feline. The cat was a wild animal. A predator similar in size and appearance to the white spotted snow leopards of Earth, but while wild, the beast had a special connection to Prazak.

"Zoja was out and about," the newcomer stated, "she followed me here."

"She enjoys hunting at night during the storms," Prazak nodded as the cat, Zoja, pushed up on its hind legs and planted her front paws on his bare chest. Prazak rubbed her rounded, fuzzy ears. Seeming pleased to be back with her master, Zoja returned to all four paws then padded over to a rug in front of a large, unlit fireplace. She was asleep within seconds.

"What brings you here this early, Herschel?" Prazak asked as they moved back into the room. "Don't tell me it was just to accompany Zoja."

General Herschel was almost as tall as Prazak. His body was basically all muscle, just like Prazak, but where Prazak was larger and therefore bulkier, Herschel was leaner. He sported light blonde hair and emerald eyes. He had no facial hair. Prazak on the other hand had darker hair, at times almost black. And thicker than Herschel's mop. Prazak's eyes were of a crystal blue that shone almost white when hit with light from certain directions. He sported scruffy facial hair, not a full beard, and his jaw line was solid and tight. While his body bore a number of battle scars and old wounds, he only had one scar upon his face, near in right eye. Overall, both men were what one would consider extremely handsome. But it was Prazak's rugged looks, along with his reputation, that seemed to attract his female companions.

"I wish that's all it was," Herschel replied grimly. He handed a rectangular pad to Prazak. Prazak read the document displayed on the screen as Herschel spoke, "Last night, during the storm, the operations center received this report from the garrison at La'trec."

"La'trec is near the Frozen Lake. On the border of Ti'hi territory," Prazak scratched at his stubble as he continued to read.

"Right. The duty officer reported this to me since I was still in my office. I told him not to disturb you at the time. We weren't sure it was anything more than a frightened farmer seeing things in the storm."

"It was a hell of a storm," Prazak nodded. He wasn't upset that he had not been informed. Herschel knew when to make the necessary decisions.

"It was. As you can see in the report, it was a farm boy that notified the garrison's captain."

"What was a boy doing out in the storm? And that close to Ti'hi territory?"

"We don't know, but the boy and his sister led a troop of garrison soldiers to what they saw. Colonel Marking left earlier with a contingent of his scouts to meet the other group," Herschel stepped forward and handed another tablet to Prazak, "this is what they found."

Prazak inhaled and looked towards his friend. Usually one to contain his emotions in front of others, he had no reason to do so in front of Herschel. Both men, as well as Colonel Marking, were in the same situation. "This can't be."

Herschel shook his head, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "It is."

"What is it doing here?"

"No idea." Herschel grumbled.

Prazak studied the images on the pad. They depicted a shuttlecraft, blanketed in a thin layer of snow and sitting on the pebbled shore of the Frozen Lake.

Herschel continued, "Marking has secured the site and as of yet has not found any people that may have been in the craft. They did get the vessel open and no one was inside."

Prazak studied the report and the images as the pair fell silent. Before he could speak again, his bedroom door opened. Sa emerged. Dressed in her formal gown from the night prior, she managed to make her hair presentable enough to depart. Prazak smiled at the sight and then chuckled when he heard Herschel huff.

Sa stepped to him, "Bad news I assume, Generals?"

"Lady Sa," Herschel nodded slightly.

Prazak handed the pads back to the other officer. Looking at the woman, he shrugged, "As I said earlier, duty. Do not concern yourself with it. This does not affect the nobility."

"Mmhmm," Sa ran a finger up and down the middle of his chest. "So, you have to leave again?"

Prazak moved, leading the woman to the door. When they were there, he wrapped a hand around the back of her head, bunching up a handful of her hair, and pulled her up into a deep and passionate kiss. Her moans vibrated against his mouth and tongue and he had to force himself to break the contact before it went any further. Sa smiled into his eyes. It was a sly, almost devious look.

"I'll find you when I return. Before you ask, I do not know when that shall be." The corners of Prazak's lips curled upward. He hit the button and opened the door. Sa planted a hand on his chest, giving his pec one final squeeze before she stepped out, turned, and disappeared down the hall.

When she was gone, Prazak closed the door and returned to the task at hand.

"Sa? Again, Andrej?" Herschel smirked. "You know that woman is only interested in one thing from you."

"And what would that be, old friend?" Prazak joked.

"Don't act as if you don't know, Prazak," Herschel rolled his eyes, "the nobility is dangerous. She doesn't care about you. She just cares about getting in your bed."

As if to affirm Herschel's statement, Zoja lifted her head from the rug and let out a whiny growl. The magnificent cat's eyes changed in color from a golden yellow to a deep red. Changing eye colors based on their moods was a unique ability of the beautiful animals.

"See? Even Zoja agrees. Davnora cats are notorious for sniffing out ulterior motives." Herschel laughed.

Prazak smiled and shook his head, "Then it seems I am outnumbered. Don't worry yourself with Lady Sa. You act as if I'm looking for anything more than what she wants. I'm not. So enough of it for now. Back to that," Prazak pointed at the tablets in his friend's hand.

Seeming to have accepted Prazak's statement, Herschel returned to the matter for which he'd come. "What do you want to do about this, Andrej? Why do you think they are here?"

"It appears we need to join Colonel Marking, find these people, and figure that out."

"It's more than likely they've been captured by the Ti'hi." Herschel stated. "We haven't seen any recent activity there in some time, but this is close to the same location where a squad of Marking's scouts went missing last month."

"Perhaps if we find one, we will find the other. The storm has passed," Prazak stretched again. "We should have little difficulty find the Ti'hi's underground holes. When we do, we attack. And what we find there...we kill."

"And what of these people?" Herschel waved the pads a little.

"We find out just what the hell Starfleet is doing here," Prazak replied, his face and voice, having gone cold. His eyes went to the fireplace. On a stand next to Zoja was a magnificent longsword, its sharpened and polished blade gleaming in the light. "And when we do, we'll do what is necessary."

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As soon as the hood was torn from his head, Riker squinted then turned back to face his captors. "This is a misunderstanding. If you return our pins," Riker nodded to his chest indicating where the Starfleet emblem should be, "we can communicate and we can resolve this."

The guards paid him no mind. Riker directed his attention to their battle-axe wielding leader who was standing directly behind the group, looming over the others. "Look,"

The leader spoke, but again, Riker could not decipher his language. The guards shoved the rest of the group into a large, musty cell. They held on to Riker as they slammed the cage door shut.

Riker took the brief opportunity to assess their surroundings. They appeared to be underground. The walls were made of smooth stones and the ground was hard and covered in a layer of wet mud; more than likely caused by the snow being tracked in. The air was stale and musty and the only lighting was provided by strings of devices that hung at even intervals from the ceiling high above.

The chamber itself was large. Riker spied the opening they'd been led through off to the right. Beyond was another chamber and he could just make out the ends of wooden tables and benches. He could hear more of the creatures moving about in there, speaking. He also heard sounds that reminded him of blades being sharpened.

The cell the away team was pushed into was not the only one in the room. Two more cells were on the same side and three across the short expanse in the middle; six total. Riker saw movement in the shadows of one of the cells across the way. Drawn to the commotion, three figures emerged from the darkness and pressed themselves against the bars. They were not the same race as their captors. To Riker they looked human, but with some noticeable differences in their eyes and other facial features. Before he could study them more, the leader barked again and the figures descended back into the darkness.

Riker puffed out his chest, refusing to show any fear, even though he had plenty at the moment.

Stepping forward, the leader pushed his guards aside and they quickly scrambled away.

 _They seem to be as afraid of him as we are._

Unlike the rest of the team, sans Worf, the guards had not unbound Will's hands; they were still secured behind his back. Riker was completely defenseless. Involuntarily, he took a step back as the head captor took another step closer. Riker felt his back bump into the cell bars.

"Will," Fear was etched into Deanna's voice. "He's enraged."

 _I don't need to be Betazoid to know that._ Riker thought. Speaking from the side of his mouth, he replied, "Just stay back. Do not instigate them. Any of you. That's an order."

He heard Worf growl. Lt. Sandy mumbled a little.

Riker tried again as the massive beast stood before him and cocked his head. "My name is Commander-"

He didn't even get a chance to speak his name. A hand shot forward and wrapped around Riker's throat. Will's eyes went wide as he was lifted from his feet and slammed against the bars. He was now eye to eye with the snarling, stinking beast that leaned forward, its grotesque maw only inches from Riker's face. He tried to speak, but the creature tightened his hold and Riker gagged, attempting to suck in any air he could.

As his attacker continued to tightened his hold, spots invaded Riker's vision. He could hear his team yelling, pleading for his release. It didn't seem to matter. With its other hand, the creature threw a wicked punch into Riker's gut. Riker tried to inhale, but the grip remained on his throat. His entire torso ached from the blow that drove him back into the bars.

Then he was being thrown. Violently. The creature tossed Riker to the floor as if he was nothing more than a sack of used clothing. Rolling, Riker gasped for air. He didn't even care that he sucked in a mouthful of muddy water and disturbed dust. He was in front of the other cell now, struggling to breath and pushing the pain from his body and mind. He could hear his team again, but also new voices. The voices from the other cell. He couldn't make out the words, but from the tone he thought they might be trying to encourage him to stop. He wasn't sure.

Using his legs, Riker scooted up into a sitting position as the leader snapped his meaty fingers. The guards advanced. Without the aid of his hands and arms, it was all Riker could do to fall back and curl up into a ball. The guards proceeded to kick him. They pummeled their fists all over Riker's body. The last thing he remembered was receiving a vicious kick to the jaw that snapped his head back and brought darkness to his mind immediately.

* * *

Prazak stepped out of the command vehicle, his boots sinking into the muddy snow. With a convoy of different vehicle types in line, it had taken the better part of the day to arrive at the site. Not that one could really tell. Unlike at the capital, the sun had not broken through the heavy clouds above and the area was therefore bleak and dismal. It was colder on the shore too.

 _Typical Ti'hi territory._ He mused as he adjusted the swords attached to his belt. Prazak, along with the others, was dressed in white and grey clothing to better blend in with the terrain. He also wore an armored chest and back plate and armor over this upper legs. Intricate designs were inlaid into the armor. A heavy fur cloak was secured by a clasp on his shoulder. The garment was warm, but Prazak did not wear it for warmth. It was a symbol of his status and position. In battle, he would remove it. Unlike the soldiers, Prazak did not wear any type of helmet. Neither did Herschel or Marking.

Zoja jumped down from the back of the vehicle and joined him at his side. Infantry soldiers that had accompanied the Generals were currently dismounting their vehicles, forming up around their officers to receive their orders.

Surveying the area, his eyes immediately fell upon the shuttlecraft sitting on the shore of The Frozen Lake. A mix of soldiers, Colonel Marking's scouts as well as the garrison infantry troops, had formed a perimeter around the site. Marking stood near the craft itself.

 _It's different. Yet it is definitely from Starfleet._

With a shrug of his shoulders, Prazak strode through the line, the armor and helmet clad soldiers parting to let him and Herschel pass. When he reached the craft, he quietly examined the small vehicle when Marking came over to join him.

Prazak tore his eyes away from the distinguishing marks on the side of the craft to address the other man, "What do you know, Colonel?"

"As you can see, it's definitely from Starfleet," Colonel Marking replied. He was shorter than Prazak and Herschel, but just as solidly built. He wore his dark hair shorter than both his comrades and his skin was a darker tone as well, more olive in nature. His hazel eyes were hard. He'd seen the same things as Prazak and Herschel over the years. Just like Prazak and Herschel, the cold did not affect Marking anymore.

Marking continued to speak as Prazak strode around the craft, studying it. "We managed to get inside, but no one was in there. External damage indicates they tried to fly through the storm and as a result the craft was hit by no less than two lightning strikes. The control panels inside are not functioning. We cannot determine how many personnel were inside."

Prazak nodded.

Herschel waved at one of the soldiers that had accompanied them to the site. "Get inside and see if you can retrieve any data."

"Yes, Sir." The soldier replied and left to carry out his orders.

"What else?" Prazak asked.

Marking jerked his head and led the other men to the side of the craft. "It's hard to tell, but we think someone was wounded. Perhaps even killed. Traces of blood are dried on the hull as well as this dent," Marking indicated the area. "Any blood that may have pooled on the ground has been washed away by the snow."

"Looks like a Ti'hi spear," Prazak rubbed the stubble on his chin as he studied the markings left by the weapon.

"My conclusion as well." Marking stated. "My guess, whoever flew this craft was captured by the Ti'hi. At least one of the crew was injured or killed. I've sent men into the hills to try to locate any Ti'hi holes."

"Good," Prazak said.

"Andrej," Marking's voice was low. Prazak turned to look at his friend, "what are they doing here?"

"We'll have to ask them," Prazak replied with a weary smile. It was meant to set his friends' minds at ease, but he had the same worries as the other two men.

"If we find them," Herschel snorted. "If they were captured by the Ti'hi they're probably dead."

"I lost a patrol here not too long ago," Marking reminded the other man. "Perhaps if we find the Ti'hi that are living in this area we will find my men and these Starfleet personnel. I have not given up hope in finding my lost patrol."

Herschel nodded then placed a hand on Marking's shoulder, "I didn't mean it like that, brother."

Marking grunted and gave the other man a nod. "I know."

Prazak returned to the matter at hand, "The report stated the craft was discovered by a farm boy. Where is he?"

Marking gestured towards the cliffs. Tucked away behind some rocks, out of the elements as best as possible, were two children. Guards stood in front of them, protecting them. "Shepherd children."

Prazak approached the children, who stood up and raised their heads as he approached. Marking stayed with him. The guards moved to the side. Prazak smiled at the duo, a boy and a girl, neither more than twelve years old, bundled up in warm clothing. They were children of Sardis.

"My name is General Prazak," Andrej stated kindly.

"We know who you are, General," The boy replied, his voice filled with awe.

Prazak wasn't surprised. Most knew him. He smiled down at the children. "What are your names?"

The girl stepped forward, "My name is Feliya. This is my little brother, Tega."

"Tega?" Prazak cocked his head and grinned.

"Named after the site of one of your most famous battles, Sir," Tega replied proudly. Then his eyes flashed with sadness, "Our great-grandfather was one of your soldiers that died that day."

"Then your great-grandfather was a very brave man," Prazak responded firmly, "and his name is immortalized in the wall. Have you seen the wall?"

Both children shook their heads.

"Then you shall," Prazak started, lighting up the children's faces. "But first you must tell me how you discovered this craft and what you saw."

Feliya and Tega exchanged worried looks. Prazak, while now childless, caught on, "You are not in trouble, children. However, you are far from home and in Ti'hi territory. It is dangerous out here, even for the most hardened of soldiers. Why were you out here?"

Both the children hesitated, but their demeanor changed when Zoja padded forward. Prazak had left the cat to wander, but Zoja generally did whatever she wanted. A purr rumbled in the cat's stomach and Zoja rubbed her head against the children's legs. Prazak watched as the cat's eyes changed color, a blue that indicated contentment.

Tega stroked Zoja's rounded ears and found his courage, "During the storm, a few of our flock escaped the holding pen. I did not want our father to find them gone as there are so few left. I ventured out, following their path through the wind and the snow. I became disoriented, so I followed the lake and came across this craft. No one was here. I ran home and told Feliya."

"How did you find your way home?" Herschel asked politely. He'd joined the group when Zoja had arrived.

"When I felt like I was getting lost, I left markings on the trees. I followed those, Sir." Tega replied.

"The makings of a true scout," Marking laughed deeply.

Tega's face beamed with pride at the Colonel's compliment. "I was still scared that father would be angry about the lost sheep. But Feliya said we had to tell him. When we did he was not angry, only concerned. He took us to the garrison outpost and we informed the Sergeant-at-arms who then told the Captain of the guard. They brought us out here so we could show them where we found the strange craft. Father had to stay behind to tend the rest of the livestock. He knew we'd be safe with the soldiers."

Prazak smiled at the children, "You did well, little Tega. And you, Feliya. How long ago was this?"

"In the night. The storm was still raging in our village when Tega returned, General." Feliya answered. "However, by the time we told father and the soldiers the storm was dying down. As soon as we told the soldiers they organized and brought us here. We've been here all day."

"If I had to guess, I'd say the craft landed during the heart of the storm," Herschel remarked. "If the vessel's occupants were captured by the Ti'hi they've been held for almost a full day."

Prazak nodded. It was a sound assessment. And not a good one for the Starfleet personnel. He returned his attention to the children, "Did you see any Ti'hi? Either when you first saw the craft, Tega, or at any other time?"

The little boy shook his head. "No, but I could smell them. Even with the smells of the storm and the Frozen Lake."

"So they were here," Prazak concluded.

A soldier approached the group, causing Colonel Marking to peel away to intercept.

"It appears so," Herschel added quietly after watching Marking step away.

"Did you find your missing sheep?" Prazak asked.

Tega frowned, "No, General. We did not. Father thinks the Ti'hi or their ghastly beasts probably got 'em."

Prazak straightened to address the garrison soldiers that had been assigned to protect the children, "See that Tega and Feliya are returned home safely. Inform their father that his children's bravery is noted and that I will personally see that he is compensated for his lost flock, either through monetary compensation or with new sheep. Also inform him that I shall send for him and his children so they can journey to Sardis Proper to see the wall their great-grandfather died for. Ensure he knows this comes from General Andrej Prazak on behalf of Empress Tarina herself. Report to General Herschel and your Captain before you depart."

"Yes, General." The guards both responded immediately and professionally.

Prazak turned to go, but was stopped when Feliya called to him, "General?"

"What is it, child?" Prazak asked.

"Where did that ship come from?"

"That is what we are going to find out. And if there were people in it and the Ti'hi have them, we are going to find them and save them. We will vanquish the Ti'hi from this region and you and your fellow townsfolk will be safe."

"Thank you, General." Feliya said bravely. Tega gave Prazak and the others a lopsided salute as only a child would do.

"I will see you both soon," Prazak stated. Whistling, he called Zoja back to his side, leaving the guards to care for the two children.

Marking was on his way back to join them and stopped in front of the shuttlecraft. "My scouts found a hole approximately six kilometers from here. It's well camouflaged and the snow has covered any tracks. We're lucky to have spotted it at all."

"Good work," Prazak stated. Looking at Herschel he ordered, "Stay with the craft, see if your intelligence personnel can get anything from it. Ensure the children are off safely."

Herschel nodded, "I'll work on the craft myself. Leave some men so we can prep it for transport. It'll be ready to go when you return."

Prazak gave his friend a thankful nod. To Marking he said, "Let's go kill some Ti'hi scum."

"With pleasure, Andrej," Marking smirked.

* * *

"Report, Mister Data," Picard needed answers. Stepping onto the bridge from his ready room, he looked to the android for those answers.

"The storm has passed. I have picked up the _Columbus_ ' transponder, however due to what appears to be damage to the vessel, I cannot pinpoint an exact location, Sir."

"Keep working, Mister Data." Picard stated as he took a seat in his command chair. "What about communication?"

Ensign Gomez spoke from the station behind the chairs, "Our hails appear to be transmitting without interference, however we have received no response from any of the away team. We are sending out hails to all their combadges."

Picard set his jaw, "Transporters?"

"Still offline, Captain," Data reported immediately. "Chief O'Brien has crews working non-stop to repair."

Picard frowned. Nothing seemed to be working in their favor, "Mister Data, have the secondary away team report to the shuttle bay and standby. If we cannot raise Commander Riker or any of the away team within the next three hours, we'll have to send another team."

"Yes, Sir," Data answered.

 _Come on, Will. Let me know what's going on down there._

* * *

Deanna placed a hand on Riker's shoulder. "Will,"

Riker groaned. The guards had tossed him back in the cell after their vicious beating. His hands were freed and he wrapped his arms around his torso. Riker blinked a number of times. Deanna could feel his pain. It hurt her almost as much as it hurt him. Physical injuries aside, Deanna knew that Riker's internal struggles were caused by what he deemed to have been his failure to fight back. To protect his team.

Deanna hurt for him.

"Will," Troi said again. "Talk to me. Please."

"What?" Riker croaked.

Lt. Sandy had assisted in tending Riker's wounds. However, without the medical bag, or even water, the best they could do was tear some strips of cloth from their clothing to gently blot the blood. Deanna knew Will would need medical care and soon. Outwardly, his injuries were ugly and she knew that he'd be suffering from internal injuries too.

"The guards are worked up." Worf reported suddenly.

Deanna looked past the bars of their cell. Worf was correct, the guards were riled up about something. Riker tried to move, but Deanna held him down. "Stay down, Will."

"What's happening?" He croaked.

"I cannot tell," Deanna frowned.

"How long have we been here?"

"It's difficult to know," Worf growled. "But it seems like a significant amount of time has passed since our capture."

"The Captain will have sent another away team to look for us. Yes?" Sandy asked. Deanna noted the fright in the man's voice. Sandy did not accompany away teams very often and it was safe to say this was the first time he'd ever been in such a dire situation. He was right to be scared.

No one answered the medic. They all knew protocol. Perhaps Captain Picard did send another team, but they had no way to know. And if he had, Deanna feared the new team could end up just as they had. Or worse. Like Ensign Rhodes.

Troi strained to listen. The guards were growing more and more agitated, turning and pointing between the groups of captives. The prisoners in the other cell were also worked up. Troi could feel their emotions. They were both excited and scared.

Two more of the creatures appeared, saying something to the guards. Once they departed, the guards grabbed their weapons from their belts. Troi couldn't be sure, but the posture and fidgeting of the two aliens led Troi to believe they were scared.

Suddenly, the beastly leader appeared. The guards stiffened as he barked at them. They moved around him and took up positions on either side of the entrance. The leader hung back, just outside of the away team's cell. He did not pull the battle axe that was strapped across his back.

Straining to hear, new sounds echoed in the distance, growing louder as the minutes ticked away.

"It sounds like a battle," Worf growled.

Troi knew the Klingon security officer was itching for a fight, to take his anger out on the creatures that had killed Rhodes, beaten Commander Riker, and held them all captive. The guards had not yet unbound Worf's wrists.

"Lt. Sandy, try to free Worf's hands," Deanna ordered. "If there is a battle taking place and we get a chance, we need to fight."

"Yes, Counselor," Sandy gulped. He moved to assist Worf.

As the sounds grew closer, Troi knew Worf was right. There was a battle taking place. The sounds of metal against metal, shouting, grunts and cries of pain could be heard filtering down the tunnel. Whatever was happening, it was coming closer.

The other captives were growing bold. They began to bang on the bars of their cell. The guards shot them looks and barked at them, but the defiant captives did not relent. They were as worked up as whoever was fighting within the underground caves. The creatures' leader ignored the outbursts of the prisoners. Troi watched as he huffed deeply. His hands curling and uncurling into fists. He, just like Worf, appeared to be wanting a fight.

"Stay alert," Riker ordered weakly, "Be prepared for anything."

Worf growled and Troi and Sandy both nodded. They were still unarmed, but if they could find a way to escape during the confusion, maybe secure a weapon or two, they could make for the shuttlecraft.

"Got it," Sandy proclaimed just as Worf pulled his arms from behind his back. The Klingon flexed his arms and strode to the bars.

"Open this door and fight me, beast," Worf spat.

The creature turned its head, took Worf in, then returned to staring at the entrance.

"You have no honor, you scoundrel," Worf howled and banged his fists on the cell. "Today is a good day to die! Fight me!"

"Worf," Deanna called.

The security officer stopped his rants, but continued to stare down their lead captor with a look of extreme vile and hate.

The fighting was so loud it sounded like it was coming from the next chamber over. A moment later, a large figure emerged at the entrance to the holding area. Dressed in white and grey clothing that covered his arms and legs, he also wore chest armor and leg armor. The newcomer held a sword in his right hand, point towards the floor. In his left was a shorter sword. A trail of fresh blood dripped from the ends of the blades.

Troi inhaled sharply. The new arrival looked like a human male. Standing well over six feet tall, the man was solid muscle. The shirt he wore beneath his armor hugged his frame, accentuating every rippled muscle that Troi could see. The man's pants were a little baggy, the ends tucked into black boots. Troi assumed his legs were as solid as the rest of him. His face was what one would consider handsome, even in its enraged state. His features were perfect and his dark hair was thick and wet and complemented by the facial hair around his mouth and along his chin and throat.

A snarl was plastered on the man's face. The guards shrieked and cowered, giving away their hiding spots. Troi could hear them mumbling some phrase over and over, yet they did not drop their weapons. The axe wielding leader made a grunting sound, perhaps laughter, then snapped at the guards. Other than that, he did not advance on the newcomer.

The captives in the other cell began to shout and cheer. Even though Troi could not communicate with them he could tell that the new arrival was on their side. The battle was in essence a rescue.

The man lifted his sword and pointed the tip of the blade at the nearest guard. Troi saw a few more figures behind the man. He sneered and spat on the floor then barked something at the guards.

The first guard shrieked and raised its mace. It never stood a chance. For his size, the soldier, for that was what he appeared to be, was faster than Troi would have expected. The guard swung the mace and the man easily blocked it with his short sword. Even in the tight space of the holding area's entrance, he maneuvered quickly, his feet sliding expertly to the side as he pushed the guards weapon away from his body. He raised the longsword and broad it down in a deadly arc.

Troi flinched at the vicious blow and watched as the guard was nearly severed in half. The man jerked the weapon free of the corpse. The other guard dropped its weapon and tried to run, but there was nowhere for the terrified being to go.

With another bout of speed, the human looking soldier let go of his short sword to snatch the creature around its throat. Lifting the struggling being off the ground, the panicked guard squirmed in the man's grasp, its thick legs kicking uselessly in the air. Troi again found herself watching with amazement and horror as the soldier slammed the squirming guard against the cell bars that held the other captives. The impact of the heavy creature's body connecting with the metal jarred the walls, kicking up layers of dust. Troi winced when he heard the creature gasping for air, just like Will had, moments before the man twisted his wrist and snapped the being's neck. The sickly crunch that echoed off the walls made Troi flinch and when the man tossed the dead creature to the ground a gurgle of built up saliva and blood poured from the creature's mouth. Troi noted that the soldier didn't even look at the two creatures he'd killed. He reached down, retrieved his other sword then stepped over the corpses. He pointed his longsword at the leader. For the first time, the man spoke. Troi couldn't understand him, yet she did note that he was completely devoid of emotions.

The prison leader made the same guttural laugh then slowly drew its weapon. The metal shrieked against its bindings. The prisoners in the cell cheered louder.

The creature advanced. Weapon held in two hands, he feinted an overhead strike before pivoting to swing at his opponent's side. The soldier did not buy it. He pivoted, bringing his short sword down to block the deadly blow. Axe and sword jarred and the creature pushed forward then back, breaking his weapon free. He howled then moved in for another attack.

Troi's eyes were glued to the fight. So was the rest of the team's. Even Worf was watching with something akin to awe and respect. Metal flashed and clanged together as the two combatants battled. Their combative dance seeming to go on and on. Every time the captor moved to strike, the armor clad soldier blocked and moved. He did not even appear to be out of breath. His opponent on the other hand was heaving.

"He is toying with his opponent," Worf stated. "Waiting for the other to wear himself down."

Troi had to agree. That is exactly how it appeared.

When the creature moved in for another strike, the man shifted and turned his shoulder. He dropped his short sword, grasped the longsword with two hands and brought it down on the handle of the monster's weapon. The movement forced the soldier to drop to one knee. The battle axe severed in two. With a surprised grunt to leader dropped the broken end of its weapon and raised its hands. The soldier was back up and turning to face his now weaponless opponent.

When he did, the purple skinned beast reached behind its back, producing a short jagged dagger. He tried to plunge it forward, but the soldier was too quick. The soldier growled something at his opponent then drove the longsword into the creature's throat. The end jutted out the back of the leader's neck, smeared with blood and flesh. With a scowl on his face, the soldier rotated his shoulders. He tore the weapon to the side. Troi wanted to gag. The abusive creature's body went limp, his life vacating his body immediately. He crumpled to the floor and as he did his head detached from his neck from the force. Now Troi did gag.

For the first time, the newcomer, the victor, looked towards the away team. His eyes were a brilliant blue and Troi couldn't help but stare. Again, he did not appear winded at all. A soldier entered from the other room and handed the man a thick cloth. He used it to clean his blade before returning it to its sheath. He did the same for the short sword, but once clean he continued to hold it in his hand. Another soldier came forward and placed a thick cloak on the man's shoulders. Troi thought it was a strange sight.

The man was obviously in charge. He stepped to the cell with the other prisoners and spoke to them. His voice sounded calm and even. Troi found it odd. Minutes ago he was engaged in deadly combat and now he was speaking to the captives with care and concern. She watched him step back as others came in, found the keys to the cell, and unlocked it, freeing the men inside.

He then came over and stood in front of their cell. Every eye of the away team was on the man as he stared at each in turn, studying them. His gaze wavered on Worf and Troi sensed a slight darkening of his mood as he took the Klingon in.

"You fought honorably," Worf proclaimed, even if the man could not understand him. "A true warrior."

The soldier cocked his head at Worf's words. He held the Klingon's gaze for a moment then looked directly at Troi. She blinked. Something about the way he looked at her was concerning.

As their eyes locked another man came over and whispered in the victor's ear. The bigger man nodded. He stepped back and pointed at his soldiers then at the cell. He said something and the soldiers moved to open the cell.

Troi exhaled, "Will, they're letting us out."

Riker nodded as soldiers entered the cell. Two cornered Worf as their leader entered. He strode by the Klingon without a look then knelt down next to Riker. With gentle hands, he touched Riker's shoulder.

Will stirred, "Thank you."

The man looked at Troi again then stood. With a wave of his arm, he motioned for his soldiers to entered. Two men helped Riker up. Sandy assisted.

Then, to Troi's astonishment, the man pointed at Worf. The men guarding him nodded and drew their swords. Worf tensed.

"No," Troi blurted, "he's with us."

The man ignored her and nodded again. Two more entered and bound Worf's hands. He struggled, but his efforts were useless. Metal cuffs were placed on his wrists as they bound his hands behind his back once again.

The man turned and left the cell, joining the one who had whispered in his ear. They left the chamber without another look back. The remaining soldiers forced Worf from the cell and gathered up Troi, Riker, and Sandy, leading them out.

* * *

Riker's entire body ached. While their supposed rescuers led them outside, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening. As they moved out of the underground area, he'd seen soldiers placing devices throughout, stringing them together with wire.

Outside, Riker squinted against the light. Even though the sky was grey, and growing darker it seemed, the change in lighting from the holding cells hurt his eyes.

The team was led away, surrounded by soldiers. He saw the man that had killed their captors a short distance away. A large cat, white with black spots, sat at the man's side. He watched the man as others spoke to him, but the soldier's eyes drifted to the group.

"Release me," Worf growled, but the soldiers ignored him.

"Worf, don't antagonize them," Riker stated in a hushed voice. "We are still unarmed."

"I can fight," Worf countered.

"You saw what that one did," Riker countered with a slight jerk of his head towards the man. "I wouldn't test him. Not yet. Let's figure this out."

Worf snorted, but quieted down.

The journey was rough going through the snow, but Riker took the time to look around. It helped him ignore the pain from his beating. Except for Worf, the rest of the team was not restrained, nor were their eyes shrouded. The landscape was bleak. And cold. Snow and rocks. A few outcroppings of bushes here and there. Eventually, the rest of the soldiers joined them, to include the leader and his cat. No one spoke.

They were led back to the shoreline. Riker saw more soldiers. He also saw the _Columbus_ had been placed on some sort of trailer that was connected to a large vehicle with tracks in place of wheels. Probably for ease of use in the snow. There was more vehicles like it.

For some reason, Riker was taken aback by the vehicles. Perhaps he'd assumed that by the weaponry of all they'd encountered thus far that their transports would be more primitive as well. He thought back to how their phasers had neglected to fire and wondered if that had something to do with it.

The group stopped.

"Commander, they are taking our shuttlecraft," Sandy said. He still sounded nervous. Riker couldn't blame the man.

"Relax, Lieutenant," Riker moaned. He still hurt all over.

"Will, you need medical care," Deanna said. She must have seen him struggling on the journey and his wincing when he spoke.

He nodded, "We'll figure this out-"

An explosion rocked the desolate landscape.. Riker winced. He'd been right. Their rescuers had blown up the area they'd been held in. Looking around, he noticed there were no prisoners. They'd killed all of the creatures inside.

As the booms died down, Riker saw the other captives that had been rescued being loaded into the back of one of the vehicles. They'd been given warm clothing, food, and water.

The leader appeared just then. Coming up next to the away team, he looked them up and down then gestured to his soldiers. They immediately brought the group food and water too. They even draped warm clothing around their shoulders.

"My officer too," Riker nodded at Worf who was still under guard and had not been given any provisions.

The man looked at Worf. He snapped his fingers and a cloak was thrown over Worf's shoulders. He was not given any food or water. The soldiers then led the Klingon into the back of another vehicle. Alone.

"I must contact me superior," Riker croaked. He assumed the man could not understand him, but he had to try.

"Soon," The man replied.

Riker blinked. Unless the man possessed some sort of universal translator, he'd just spoken English.

"Who are you?" Riker asked.

The man turned his eyes to Troi then tapped two fingers against the side of his head, "Stay out."

Troi sucked in a breath. "Will,"

Riker shook his head. Something was definitely amiss. Could this man be one of the survivors of the vessel that sent the beacon? But if he was, why would he not communicate openly? And how long had he been here?

"This way," The man gestured towards a vehicle toward the front of the column. His cloak blowing and snapping in the wind. "Your injuries will be taken care of. Your other man can go with the Klingon."

Riker nodded towards Sandy who moved off to join Worf.

Their rescuer, if Riker could truly call him that, appeared human. He spoke English. He knew Klingons.

 _What the hell is going on?_

"There was another with us," Riker stated. The man stopped and looked at him. "Those creatures killed him. His body,-"

The man appeared almost sorrowful as he spoke, "Your comrade died. There was no body to recover. We were too late for that."

Riker wasn't sure how to interpret that response. So instead he started, "Sir, my name is Commander William T. Riker,-"

The man held up a hand, silencing him. They'd arrived at the vehicle. The back ramp was down. He gestured for them to get in. Riker looked at Deanna and gave her a short nod. They got in the vehicle. The man got in as well, along with another soldier. A blond haired man. The cat joined them, settling at the leader's feet. Riker watched the two men exchange looks then the vehicle started and moved.

Riker only hoped that their situation wasn't about to get a whole lot worse.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation. I am not making any profit or gain from this. The original characters in this story do belong to me.**

 **To All: Please enjoy!**

* * *

The journey had been made in silence. All of Riker's attempts to engage the two men in conversation had fallen on deaf ears; neither man responded to his inquiries. Yet they had been busy communicating with each other, again in a language indecipherable to Riker and Troi. And when the two men weren't talking with each other they had simply ignored Riker as if he wasn't even in the vehicle.

But he had caught the dark haired leader eyeing Troi from time to time. What his intentions or thoughts had been, Will could only guess. All he knew for sure was that he didn't like it.

Being ignored made Riker's head throb. Eventually, he had shut his eyes in an attempt to ward off the pain. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew the vehicle had stopped. Troi had placed a hand in the crook of his arm.

 _Damnit. I shouldn't have fallen asleep. Both health and situation wise._

But there wasn't anything for it now.

The vehicle's rear ramp thudded against the ground. Riker winced.

The cat that accompanied the group stood and jogged down the ramp. The others needed to hunch over as they stood.

The leader inclined his head and held out his hand to Troi. Riker saw her hesitate, but only briefly. Much to his dismay, she took the man's hand and allowed him to assist her out of the transport.

The blonde haired man took Riker's arm. He wasn't forceful. He simply provided aid so Will could exit, despite his injuries.

They were inside a large enclosed bay. Riker had no idea how long they'd traveled and without being able to see the sky, he couldn't tell if it was day or night.

The bay itself was warm. A welcome change from their exposure to the strange planet so far. Riker joined Troi and saw the other vehicles had also arrived. He saw the _Columbus_. He frowned at the soldiers working near and on the craft.

Rough voices drew Riker's attention away from the possessed shuttlecraft. Worf and Sandy were being helped out of their vehicle. Worf was still bound. He was struggling. Other men joined the guards to assist.

Riker saw the leader frown. His brow furrowed as he snapped commands to no one in particular. However, Riker noted that everyone in the vicinity of the commotion obeyed immediately. Worf was hauled out of sight. Sandy was led back to Riker and Troi.

"Where are you taking him?" Riker wanted to know. "I told you before, he's one of my officers."

Again, he was ignored. Another man joined the group just then. He was dressed differently than the soldiers. Instead of a white and grey uniform, his was a deep, rich purple. He too wore a cloak, but it was not thick like the one the other man wore. It looked more like ceremonial attire than combat or field clothing. His chest armor was polished and un-dented. What appeared to be designs of roses or some similar flower adorned the piece. He carried a sword as well, but it was shorter. Riker noted the sheath was not worn. Nor were his boots.

The man's face was smooth and finally, in the new light, Riker could see the difference between the men. Where their rescuer appeared completely human, the other man looked slightly different. His eyes were thinner and closer to the center of his face. His nose was extremely thin, with small nostrils. His mouth slightly lower than it should be on a human too. His ears and hair were about the closest things to humans. When he curled his hand around the grip and pommel of his sword, Riker nodded he possessed an extra set of knuckles on his fingers.

All in all, the newcomer gave off an air of superiority, but not one earned from combat.

And from the look of disdain their rescuers wore when the man spoke to them, Riker's assumptions were confirmed. Regardless of the language barrier, it appeared the feelings of combat soldiers for non-combat soldiers was the same throughout the galaxy. Riker found himself smiling a little. He knew how the two men felt.

With a nod to the blonde, the leader departed with the newcomer.

The blonde turned to Riker, Troi and Sandy. He extended his arm, gesturing for them to follow him.

The trio exchanged looks. With no other course of action at the moment, they fell in step with the man.

* * *

"Captain, the _Columbus_ has moved," Data stated without emotion.

"Any response to our hails?" Picard asked hopefully.

"No, Sir," The Ensign behind him answered.

"Continue to transmit," Picard ordered. "What about personal communicators?"

"I cannot locate any of the away team's badges," The Ensign replied.

"Keep trying. Mister Data, what can you tell me about the _Columbus_ new position." Picard needed to know.

"The _Columbus_ has moved 160 kilometers Northeast of its original position." Data turned in his chair. "Away from the original beacon, Sir."

"Away?" Picard's eyes narrowed.

"Yes, Sir," Data answered.

"Can you scan the surface yet?"

Data turned back to his console. "Attempting to scan now. The original storm has dissipated, however a new formation appears to be moving in."

"This planet is plagued by these storms," Picard mused.

"The weather patterns and distortions are consistent with similar energy storms we have encountered on other planets." Data explained. "The disruption in communication can be attributed to such storms. Likewise for the transporters. The away team may not be in any danger, Captain."

"Perhaps not, Mister Data." Picard nodded. "However, we need to be prepared to retrieve our team."

"Secondary away team is ready and standing by," Data responded.

 _The last thing I want is to send another team into the unknown. But, time is running out. Talk to us, Will. Talk to us._

* * *

"While we're not in cells, I still cannot help feeling like a prisoner," Riker grumbled. He dabbed a medicinal cloth that had been provided to the wounds on his jaw.

They'd been escorted to a large room. Just like the vehicle bay, it was warm. Under different circumstances it could be considered inviting. Riker imagined that was how they were meant to see it. A long, rectangular conference table, made of some sort of polished wood, occupied the majority of the room. High back chairs were spaced evenly around the table. On one wall hung a large tapestry of a map. Riker assumed it was a map of the land but he could not read the words. On the wall across from the tapestry was a large mural that depicted some epic battle scene. Soldiers fought against the creatures from earlier. Snow covered mountains in the backdrop. The sky was a reddish, purple. The snow was darkened by blood. Riker found the mural both handsomely beautiful and dreadfully depressing.

 _A culture fighting a gruesome and bloody war. What have we stumbled upon?_

The blonde haired man had departed immediately, yet two guards remained. Flanking the only door, they stood erect. Their faces were hidden behind helmets and each had a hand on their sword; ready to draw at a moment's notice. They made no attempt to speak with the Starfleet personnel.

Food and drinks had been prepared and placed upon the conference table. A generous portion of a dark meat was the main dish. Riker couldn't decipher what type of animal it came from, not even from the look or smell. Accompanying the meat was foreign looking fruits and vegetables as well as breads. There were both hot and cold drinks. It all smelled delicious.

No one ate.

Troi turned from where she was studying the mural. "I don't think our hosts feel we are their prisoners, Will."

Riker's lips curled downward. "They sure have a strange way of making us welcome. Where's Worf? What have they done with him?"

"Their reactions to Worf were strange indeed," Sandy offered. Riker noticed the Lieutenant had been eyeing the food more and more as time drew on. "On the way here, the guards didn't speak to us, but I got the feeling they kept looking at Worf. Even with the helmets on. It was just a feeling."

Riker nodded. About to speak, he closed his mouth when the door opened.

The guards snapped to attention as the blonde haired man returned. He was still alone.

Striding forward, he came to stand at the end of the table. Riker noted he had removed his armor, but still wore the same clothing and carried his weapon. He also held a device similar to one of Starfleet's datapads.

He set the pad down on the table then manipulated something on his belt in a pouch near his sword. Riker couldn't tell what it was. When the man spoke, he spoke in English.

"You can use this," he gestured at the pad on the table, "to contact your ship. The correct frequency has been uploaded. All you must do is tap the button and you will be connected."

"How did you get our frequency?" Riker inquired.

The man did not respond.

Troi was the next to speak. "Where is your commander?"

The man turned his head to look at her, his eyes following Troi as she came back to Will's side. When she stopped the man's features were blank. "He is a General. As am I. He was called away, but will join you shortly. At that time, we will have questions for you."

"Where is Lieutenant Worf?" Riker demanded.

The blonde General inclined his head.

"My officer."

The man still did not respond.

Riker sighed outwardly, "The Klingon."

The General smiled thinly. "He is being taken care of. You have my assurance he has not been harmed. However, he has been isolated...for his own safety."

"What does that mean?" Riker spat.

The man slid the pad across the table. It stopped when it bumped into one of the food trays. "Contact your ship. Tell them your injuries were not caused by us. Your vessel is being repaired for you. However, due to another approaching storm you cannot leave at this time."

Riker shook his head a little then sighed. At this point he knew he'd get no more from this General. The man hadn't even given his name. Or the name of his friend. Stepping around the table, Riker picked up the pad. It was heavier than it looked and much older technological wise than Starfleet's equipment.

Riker looked up at the man and waved the pad a little. "Privacy?"

The General's eyes flickered. Looking over his shoulder, he said something to the guards who quickly stepped out of the room. The General himself moved away, standing in the far corner near the mural. Riker frowned, but didn't argue. He knew the man had no intention of leaving. But to the General's credit he at least appeared to be ignoring them.

Taking a seat as far from the lingering General as possible, Riker examined the pad. It bore no markings at all. No insignia, no instructions. Nothing. Only a button.

Riker pressed the button.

The screen flipped on. A strange noise that was more irksome than actually unpleasant wafted from some unseen port on the device.

Moments later, to Riker's surprise, he was staring at _Enterprise's_ bridge.

 _I'm on the viewscreen._

He saw Captain Picard stand. He made no attempt to hide the relief from his face.

"Will," Picard said.

"Sir," Riker replied. "Sorry for the delay."

"Report, Number One." Picard ordered.

Riker relayed everything that happened since the team departed. Ending his report with their current status.

"Worf is being held somewhere else," Riker stated. "I'm not sure why. Our...hosts haven't given us much information in that regards."

"What do you know about these men that rescued you?" Picard inquired.

Riker's eyes drifted towards the blonde General in the corner. He had to act on the assumption the other man was listening, even with the distance between them.

Will looked back at the screen. He spoke as low as possible. "Not much, Captain. The ones in charge appear human, but that doesn't necessarily mean they are. They have had some sort of interaction with Klingons at some point in their past."

"There have been reports of the Klingons claiming planets near here," Data reported. "However, that was decades ago."

Picard was nodding. "What else?"

Riker paused for a moment. "Sir, their technology is somewhat baffling."

"Explain, Number One."

"They fight with swords and other melee weapons. Ensign Rhodes was killed by a spear like device. Yet their vehicles, this facility, the device I'm transmitting from, is all fairly modern. I don't know why, it just feels strange."

"Other societies also use such weapons in combat," Data stated. "The Klingons for one. The Belaraienese Consort another."

"Have you seen any indication they possess warp technology, Will?" Picard asked.

Riker shook his head. "No. But we've seen so little it's hard to say for sure. The only vehicles we've seen are ground transports. The beings that captured us were riding on animals similar to horses."

Riker knew the look on his Captain's face. Picard was compiling all the information and developing his courses of actions.

Riker cleared his throat. "Captain, I would like my team to stay. We still need to find the beacon. I'm not convinced we are in any immediate danger. I want to learn more about these people. And I need to find Worf and have him released."

Picard paused. But it wasn't long before he nodded. "Very well, Number One. I want constant updates when you can communicate through the storm."

"Our comm badges were confiscated by our previous captors. I'll see what we can do with the _Columbus_."

"Understood," Picard stated. "Will, when you speak to this man that rescued you, inform him that I would like to talk to him."

"Yes, Sir."

"Then make it so," Picard smiled. "And Will, I'm glad to see you're alright."

"Thank you, Sir."

The transmission ended. Riker set the pad down and leaned back in the chair.

The General came back over and picked up the pad.

Riker looked the man in the eyes. "Thank you for allowing us to contact our ship."

The General nodded. "Remain here. I will return later."

He didn't wait for Riker to say anything else. He turned and headed for the door. Leaving without another word.

 _And now we wait some more._

* * *

Prazak kept his eyes forward, ignoring the looks from the nobles as he passed through the court. Men and women mingled in groups, sipping drinks from their tall glasses and conversing about things Prazak cared little about. He did hear a few comment about the war. Those made him scowl.

 _What do they know of the war?_

He spotted Sa in a group of noblewomen ahead and to his right. He made eye contact and she smiled a little before one of the other women whispered in her ear. She nodded and laughed as her eyes traveled about Prazak's body. As he drew nearer, she winked then turned back to her friends.

He knew what they were talking about. Him. They were discussing him. As if to confirm his thoughts, a few turned their heads and looked at him briefly. Usually those looks would boost his ego, but not today. He had other things on his mind.

Soon enough the nobility was behind him. When he reached the end of the great hall, he turned right. Zoja padded next to him. At the far end of the hall was a massive set of two wooden doors. Guards, dressed in similar garb as his escort stood on each side.

When they arrive, the other man turned. "The animal stays here."

"Zoja does not take orders from you, Tristin," Prazak sneered.

"That's Captain Tristin."

Prazak scowled, "And that's 'General' or 'Sir' to you, Captain. Do not forget that your outfit falls under my command."

Prazak smiled inwardly as Captain Tristin bristled visibly. Before the man could respond, Prazak pushed open the door and stepped inside. Zoja was right at his side.

Captain Tristin remained outside.

* * *

Prazak found Herschel and Marking waiting for him outside the room that held the Starfleet Officers. Both men waited stoically, as they almost always did, for Andrej to join them. Zoja bounded forward to bump into Herschel, pushing him back slightly. Prazak saw a smile crack on his friend's visage as he crouched down to pet the big cat.

Zoja always had her way with Herschel and Marking. Usually because the other men gave her treats.

When Prazak stopped in front of them Herschel stood back up. "How did it go?"

Prazak shrugged. "Same as always, for the most part."

"Reaction to the news about these ones?" Marking jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door. He held an equipment bag in his other hand.

"A little, but until we know more, there wasn't much to report," Prazak replied. Looking at Herschel he asked, "Did he contact his ship?"

Herschel nodded. "He reported what he knew. He insisted he and his team were fine and he requested to stay in order to learn more. His commanding officer granted his request."

"And who is his commanding officer?"

As the head of military intelligence, General Herschel had his methods. Herschel handed over the pad. "A man named Picard. Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Commanding officer of the Federation's flagship, the _USS Enterprise_. Of course, I'll know more soon."

Prazak scanned the pad then handed it back. "Good work. Now, let's see what we can learn from our guests."

With nods from his comrades, Prazak opened the door. He advanced straight to the table, passing the guards that snapped to attention upon his entry. Eyes locked on the Commander of the Starfleet personnel, Prazak came to a halt at the end of the table, directly across from the other man. To his pleasant surprise the three stood.

He took a moment to size each one up, then methodically opened the pouch on his belt. He withdrew a silver, cylindrical device and held it lengthwise between his thumb and index finger, showing it to the others. With a click he activated the device and set it on the table. In reality, it was all for show. He did not need it to communicate, but he was not going to show his hand just yet.

He remained silent, as did his officers. When the man across the table figured that Prazak was waiting on him, the Commander spoke.

"My name is Commander William T. Riker of the Federation starship, _Enterprise_. These are some of my officers, Lieutenant Sandy and Counselor Deanna Troi."

Prazak watched him gestured at each in turn.

Prazak narrowed his eyes. He nodded once. "My name is General Andrej Prazak, Supreme Commander of Tarina's Armies and appointed protector of Sardis. These are my senior officers, General Herschel and Colonel Marking. Why have you come to this planet?"

Prazak saw the Commander flinch. It was small, but he caught it. Riker cleared his throat. "Before we get to that, I'd like to know why my officer, Lieutenant Worf, is not with us."

"As you've been told, he is being held elsewhere for his own safety," Prazak replied gruffly, not liking that his question was ignored. But he could tell that Riker was a strong willed individual that cared for his people. Prazak could respect that.

"His own safety?" Troi asked causing Prazak to turn his gaze towards her. "What does that mean?"

"It means exactly that. Your Lieutenant is not the first Klingon to set foot on this planet. There are those of us that remember the others."

Prazak watched as the woman leaned over and whispered to Riker.

With a huff, Prazak spoke up, drawing their attention back to him. "I asked you before to stay out of my head. I do not appreciate the intrusion. I have not lied."

His eyes drifted back to Troi. With a smirk, he projected his thoughts, _'You are not the only one with abilities, Counselor. I know what you are. Beware. You will not like what you find. Stay out.'_

He smiled when the Betazoid was visibly shocked. Yet she said nothing to her Commander. But Prazak had to assume she'd inform Riker once they were alone.

Prazak returned to Riker. "Commander, I know how this all must appear to you. In a show of good faith, I shall have your officer brought down here to rejoin you. As long as you can vouch for him, that is."

"He is a Starfleet officer, General," Riker responded immediately. "I can assure you, whatever you think he is, he is not."

"Very well." Prazak nodded.

Marking waved back to the guards. One nodded then departed.

Prazak motioned for them to take their seats. He and his men remained standing. "Now, I ask again, Commander, why have you come to this planet? I have not lied to you, so I expect the same courtesy in return."

He saw a slight hesitation. Then Riker spoke, "Our ship picked up a distress beacon emanating from this planet. It originated from a Starfleet vessel. We came to investigate in hopes of finding the vessel." Riker paused. "And possible survivors."

Prazak shook his head. This was news to him. "I have seen no such vessel and I assure you, Commander, I have been all over this planet. It does not exist."

Just then the doors opened and Worf was escorted into the room. Prazak kept his features neutral as the guard, along with two others, brought the Klingon to stand before him.

To his guards he said, "Remove his restraints. He is a guest."

The men obeyed without question. Once their task was complete they stepped back to the door. The two new men remained with their comrades.

Prazak stared at the Klingon, hiding his emotions. The Klingon stared right back. He was obviously offended by his temporary accommodations.

"Worf" Riker stood back up, "were you mistreated?"

The Klingon tore his eyes from Prazak to look towards his Commander. "Besides being restrained, no Commander," Worf answered.

"A misunderstanding." Prazak smiled. The Klingon's eyes shot back to his then wandered down his body, coming to rest upon his sword. Prazak shook his head in warning.

"I took you for an honorable man," Worf growled when he looked back up. "Perhaps I was mistaken."

"You were not, Lieutenant," Prazak replied. "If you recall, my men and I rescued you from the Ti'hi. A dishonorable man would have left you to die."

He saw the Klingon's posture slacken just a tad. Prazak had him. Worf nodded then moved to join his team.

Returning to the matter at hand, Prazak flashed his best smile at the group. "What happened at the Frozen Lake?"

Riker was looking at Worf. When he sat back down, so did the rest of his team. His attention went back to Prazak. "We were thrown off course by the storm. When we landed we were ambushed by the-" He paused to remember the name the General had just spoken.

"The Ti'hi." Herschel helped.

Riker nodded. "Yes, the Ti'hi. As I told you before, they killed the final member of my team, Ensign Rhodes. Then they took us, beat me, and held us prisoner until you arrived."

Prazak curled a hand around the pommel of his sword. "As I told you before, Commander, your Ensign met an unfortunate end. The group of Ti'hi that captured you were from an extremely vicious sect."

"How so?" Sandy asked. It was the first he'd spoken since Prazak arrived. Andrej noted the fear in the man's voice.

"They are known for consuming their kills," Herschel stated evenly.

"No." Troi exhaled.

"Yes." Marking shook his head and stepped forward. "The men in the cell across from you belong to one of my troops. A lost patrol. The patrol originally consisted of nine scouts. According to the ones we rescued, three died in the initial ambush. And the others…"

Prazak heard the disgust in his friend's voice. He felt for him. He hoped the Counselor could feel it too. Inhaling deeply, Prazak went on. "The men we did rescue reported of your defiance against the Chieftain, Commander. And yours, Lieutenant Worf. Brave acts, but somewhat foolhardy if you had known. That particular Chieftain was an unpredictable and ill-tempered beast."

Riker rubbed his throat. "You don't have to remind me."

Prazak pressed his lips together then burst out a laugh. "No, it's appears I do not. Believe me when I say it was extremely satisfying to relieve him of his head."

Riker actually smiled back. "General, we appreciate your help. We do. I've spoken to my Captain and while some of our own regulations have been broken accidently, there's nothing to be done for that now. We still need to find the beacon."

Prazak shook his head.

Marking held up the bag he'd been holding, upended it and dropped the contents onto the table. It was the Starfleet equipment. All broken.

"This is what the Ti'hi did to your equipment," Prazak remarked. "They may be strong creatures, formidable in battle, but they are not very intelligent. You saw how they live. My guess is they broke your equipment while….playing with it. Like children do."

"I don't understand," Riker frowned.

"You were found in Ti'hi territory, Commander. I assume your beacon originated somewhere there as well. If a vessel did land here at some point, the Ti'hi would have killed the crew and scavenged the vehicle."

Herschel nodded. "They probably activated the beacon purely by accident. Ti'hi whelps playing with it. Thinking it was a toy."

Riker shook his head. "We have to know for sure."

"Commander, we are at war," Prazak shot back. "I cannot allow you to venture out there on your own."

"We have weapons," Worf stated.

Prazak tilted his head. He pushed one of the broken phasers around with his fingers. "These weapons? Tell me, Lieutenant Worf, did you attempt to discharge these weapons?"

Worf nodded slowly.

"And they didn't work, did they? Your energy weapons do not work on this planet. Nor will your transporter beams. Something in the atmosphere renders them inoperable."

"Give me a sword then," Worf proclaimed.

"Worf." Riker shot him a look.

Prazak took the opportunity to move along the table. He stopped at the spread of untouched food. With a frown he examined the drinks that had grown cold. Looking up he bellowed, "Bring our guests new food and drink. This has gone cold."

The two new guards hurried out.

"Why have you not eaten?" He questioned.

Riker turned his eyes away.

Prazak nodded. "I would probably be suspicious too." Then he looked back at them. "Even though we gave you no reason to be suspicious. You know, having saved you from certain death and all."

With a smirk, he plucked one of the fruits off the tray, tossed it in the air a few times, caught it, then tossed it into his mouth. Again, he did it for show, but found that he was also very hungry.

He swallowed the fruit. "Eat and relax. My men at the door will show you where you can and cannot go within our facility. I advise that Lieutenant Worf either remains here or I can assign a guard to him. As long as I have your word he will not attempt to attack my people."

When Riker nodded, Prazak returned to Herschel and Marking. Zoja got up from where she'd curled up under the tapestry.

Picking up the cylindrical device from the table, Prazak looked at the Starfleet personnel one more time. "As I said, we are at war. Which means I have other duties that require my attention. We shall speak again soon."

He turned to go, but paused when Riker called out, "General, we appreciate your hospitality. My Captain would like to speak with you."

Prazak mulled it over. "When the communication window opens again, tell your Captain I will speak to him. At my convenience."

Before Riker could rebut, Prazak turned and headed for the door. Herschel, Marking, and Zoja followed silently.

 **To Be Continued...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you to those that continue to read. I hope you all are enjoying. This tale is a bit different, but I'm enjoying telling it, so I hope you all enjoy reading it! Thank you!**

* * *

The away team had been given more comfortable accommodations; a common room with additional sleeping and hygiene quarters branching off from the main area. Similar decor as had been in the conference room adorned the walls, but the furniture was more inviting than earlier. Food and drinks had also been brought to the Starfleet personnel.

The guards had provided strict instructions on where the team could and could not go before they'd left the group alone. While the guards were not present, Riker imagined they were still posted outside the common room's only entrance.

Clothes had been provided for the group, but Riker and his team chose to keep their uniforms and standard Starfleet cold weather clothing instead.

After giving his people an appropriate amount of time to freshen up, Riker had assembled them all in the common room. Spread out on the round table in the middle of the space was the broken equipment that had been recovered during their rescue.

"I would not be surprised if those men destroyed these themselves," Worf grumbled.

"What makes you say that?" Sandy questioned. He was flipping his damaged tricorder over in his hands.

"I do not trust them," Worf stated firmly. His eyes went to Riker's. "Sir, they are hiding something."

Riker tended to agree with the security officer's assessment. He glanced at Troi. "Counselor?"

Troi's lips were pursed together in a tight line. Her black eyes, a distinct physical trait of Betazoids, even half-Betazoids like Troi, appeared conflicted. Hands folded in her lap, she glanced towards Will. "Yes?"

Her demeanor bothered Riker. He didn't need to be an empath to know something was troubling his former lover. He'd speak to her in private about it. "Input? Were you able to get any reads on the emotional states of our hosts?"

Troi blinked a number of times. She unfolded her hands, running her palms over her upper legs. "It's difficult to say. On one hand they appeared very genuine, even concerned for our well-being. Yet on the other, they were reserved and closed off. As if, like Worf believes, there is something they do not want us to discover."

"And that Prazak fellow was pretty arrogant." Sandy laughed a little.

"I think confident would be a better word," Troi retorted.

Sandy shrugged. "What's the difference?"

Riker put a stop to the conversation before it got too far off topic. "I'm not concerned with Prazak's self-aggrandizing behavior. What I am concerned with is finding out what is going on here and getting to that distress beacon."

"He's a telepath."

Riker paused. Troi's statement came out of thin air. Even Worf and Sandy stopped their examination of the damaged equipment to look at the _Enterprise_ 's counselor.

"A telepath?" Riker asked. "Are you sure?"

Troi nodded. "He projected his thoughts into my mind. Immediately after he saw me lean over to inform you that my impression of his statements was that they were true."

"What did he say?" Worf demanded.

Troi shook her head. She didn't answer.

"Deanna," Riker prodded.

She set her jaw. A look Riker knew well. Troi wasn't about to give up such an intimate detail. "What he said wasn't important," Troi announced. "The fact that he is a telepath is. I'm not sure about the others."

Riker assimilated the information. "Could he be from Betazed?"

Troi shook her head. "I doubt it. His eyes for one are not consistent with being a Betazoid. And the way he communicated...it just did not feel the same as telepathic communication with fellow Betazoids. No. I don't think he's a Betazoid, Will."

"There are other telepathic species out there, Commander," Worf remarked.

"Sir," Sandy stuttered.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" Riker looked towards the medical technician.

"What makes you think these men are not natives to this planet?"

"Just a hunch, Lieutenant. A gut feeling if you will. Over the years, I've learned to trust my gut." Riker smiled.

"Then perhaps that is what they are hiding." Sandy stroked his chin. "Their true identities."

Riker nodded. "Which begs the question of why."

The group fell silent for a long while. No one had the answers they sought. At least not yet.

A span of almost twenty minutes had passed and just when Riker found himself growing anxious, Worf held out the tricorder he'd been manipulating. "There. I think I have it."

"Good work." Riker took the tricorder from his officer. It was still damaged on the outside, but it was the internal components Will needed to function.

"I salvaged working parts from each tricorder in order to repair this one. Unfortunately, it is still fragile so I do not know how long it will last."

"Any luck with the comm badges?" Riker said.

Sandy's brow furrowed. "It's slow going. The components are so small and delicate."

"Keep at it," Riker ordered. "I don't trust that our hosts are not monitoring our communications when we use their device. I want to secure comms with the _Enterprise_ from here on out."

"Aye Aye, Sir," Sandy replied without looking up from his work.

Riker gave the man a small smile. When Worf picked up one of the type 2 phasers, Riker's smiled widened. "Don't believe what Prazak said about our phasers, Mister Worf?"

"While his statement was verified by the weapon malfunctions we experienced when we first arrived, I may be able to configure the phasers in order to make them functional again."

"Good idea," Riker stated. He didn't add that he thought it was probably a waste of time. Prazak's statement had felt truthful enough, as well as his sincerity when offering his condolences for the death of Ensign Rhodes. But if there was a way, Worf would figure it out.

 _Prazak may not be all he appears to be, but one thing's for sure he is a soldier and a leader. He knows what it's like to lose one of his people. Doesn't mean I'm going to put all my faith into his words._

* * *

"This is dangerous, Andrej. We should send them back to their ship and let them be on their way."

Seated on a large couch in his living space, Prazak listened to the protests of his friends with interest.

"What makes you think they'd leave?" Prazak asked back. "This beacon they claim to be after, I doubt they'll leave without locating it."

Herschel huffed and took a long swig of a clear liquid from the glass he held. "Let them go explore. Whatever it is, it's in Ti'hi territory."

"You saw how long they lasted the first time," Marking snickered. "We'd be sending them to their deaths."

"And thanks to their incompetence we now have Starfleet hovering above us," Prazak stated. "And Starfleet isn't leaving without answers."

"You shouldn't have told them our real names, Andrej," Herschel added. "It may take some time, but they'll discover us. Then what?"

"Exactly, my friend, then what? What can Starfleet do? This is a sovereign planet and we are citizens of this planet. Tarina would never let them take us and Starfleet wouldn't risk a war over three men."

Herschel eyed Prazak. "Are you willing to bet your life on that? Our lives?"

Prazak laughed. "Relax, old man. Again, what can Starfleet do? Their weapons do not work here and we are vastly superior in ground combat than they are. Not to mention we are adapted to the environment; they are not. Even their concept of combat is skewed. They carry weapons that can stun their opponents because they are afraid to kill. They won't fire on us from orbit for fear of killing innocent civilians. Men that are afraid to kill will not fight to the death for their cause. I do not fear them. Just as I did not fear the Klingons and neither did either of you."

"That did surprise me." Marking scratched at the back of his head. "The Federation and the Klingon Empire. Allies. Yet the Federation doesn't seem to have learned anything from their warrior comrades."

Prazak exhaled deeply. "Those officers were captured within moments of landing. It is unfortunate they lost a man, but it is a risk that they took by coming to this planet thinking they could do as they pleased."

"Typical Starfleet mentality." Marking snorted.

Herschel nodded. "They do think they own the galaxy."

Prazak grinned at his friend. It appeared Herschel was relaxing. "And that is their mistake now."

"So what do we do? Help them find their beacon so they leave?" Marking asked.

Setting his glass down, Prazak stood. Herschel and Marking followed suit.

Hands on his hips, Prazak glanced at the timepiece over the luxurious fireplace on the opposite wall. "We wait. As for the Ti'hi, we carry on with our plans. The war doesn't stop just because Starfleet showed up."

His two friends nodded then stepped to the door.

"See you at the training grounds in the morning, Andrej." Marking smiled. His eyes displaying a level of excitement that Andrej hadn't seen in some time from the Colonel.

"What's this?" Prazak grinned. "You think you have something new to bring to me? When was the last time you bested me, Marking?"

Marking pointed at him. "You're due a good wallop, Andrej."

"Then I'll see you in the morning ready for this wallop as you call it." Prazak grinned. "Make sure you remember to bring it with you."

Marking rolled his eyes. Activating the door to Prazak's quarters, the scout leader stepped through as soon as they opened, waving over his shoulder as he headed off for the night.

"And you?" Prazak looked at Herschel.

"I know my skills," Herschel responded. "And what's more so do you. I don't have to be able to defeat you. Only Ti'hi."

"Wise man." Prazak laughed.

"Besides, I know how a defeat will bruise your precious ego, Andrej." Herschel leaned his head out the door for a moment. When he leaned back in he gave Prazak slick grin. "And speaking of pleasing your ego…"

Prazak smirked. He didn't have to look to see what Herschel had seen. "This is about pleasing something other than the ego."

"You're insufferable, Andrej." Herschel laughed with a shake of his head. "Remind me how the hell we ever become friends in the first place?"

"When two enemies share a common foe they become allies. And sometimes, even friends."

"Well it wasn't because of your poetic talent, that's for damn sure." Herschel chuckled.

"See you tomorrow, Herschel." Prazak slapped a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'll check on our guests one more time before retiring for the evening," Hershel stated. "Since you'll be...occupied."

Prazak's hand dropped from the man's shoulder as Herschel turned to the door. With a sideways cock of his head, he bowed a little at the new arrival. "Lady Sa."

"Good evening, General Herschel," the woman purred.

Prazak smirked when Herschel looked up, met his gaze, and gave him another one of his looks. He clicked his tongue in his cheek and Zoja rose from where she'd been sleeping in front of the fireplace. The cat nudged against Prazak's knee then joined Herschel.

A moment later, Herschel and Zoja disappeared down the corridor in the same direction Marking had headed a few minutes earlier.

Prazak stepped back to allow his new companion to enter. He watched her enter, keeping her back to the door as it closed.

"Why are you here?" Prazak asked.

Sa looked over her shoulder. "Why do you think, General?"

"I am not at your beck and call, Sa."

"I never said you were," Sa replied as she turned to face him.

Prazak stared at her. He wasn't sure where his slight edginess had suddenly come from, but he forced it away. Sa was not his enemy, regardless of what he and Herschel thought of the rest of the nobility.

"Forgive my impertinence, but when I saw you at court today I had to come see you."

"Why?" Prazak said.

She took a step back towards him. Prazak tried to keep his eyes on her face, but the gown she wore left little for the imagination. His gaze wandered. Not that Andrej had to imagine much. He already knew every curve of her body. He blinked and looked back at her face.

The sultry smile she wore told Prazak that she'd caught him looking. Just like she wanted.

She took another step and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of head for a moment before she pulled one arm back and swept the backs of her fingers across his stubbly facial hair. "Because I heard how you not only saved some of your lost soldiers, but foreigners too. And you killed the disgusting band of Ti'hi scum that had captured them. They say you severed the Chieftain's head in one blow. And for that, I wanted to ensure you knew how grateful I am that you keep the enemy at bay."

Her lips were inches from his. Her breath smelled like sweet liqueur. Her words were meant to reel him in; to get him to give in to her. Prazak knew it, but he didn't care. He couldn't resist her for very long. "And how grateful are you?"

"Let me show you." Sa crashed her mouth against his. His hands grasped her hips, pulling her into him as the kiss deepened and they opened up to one another.

* * *

"Any updates, Mister Data?" Picard asked from the Captain's chair.

"Still working, Captain," Data answered while turning slightly in his chair. "The information Commander Riker provided is not sufficient to draw any usable hypothesis as to the identity of the soldiers that rescued the away team."

"I want answers, Mister Data. Commander Riker is resourceful and he'll gather whatever information he can on the ground." Picard stood, tugging at his tunic as he did. "The moment you receive a transmission from the surface I want to know. I'll be in my ready room."

"Understood, Captain." Data returned to his station.

 _Come on, Will. Give us something to work with or else I'm coming down there and pulling you out myself. Beacon be damned._

* * *

Refreshed, Troi stretched her arms over her head as she sat up. The small bed wasn't the most comfortable, however she wasn't going to complain. It was better than lying on the cold, dust covered ground of the Ti'hi cell.

She'd been glad that Captain Picard had granted Will's request to allow the away team to stay on the planet. Even though the others were less trusting, Deanna truly felt that General Prazak and his fellow soldiers meant them no ill will.

 _Will might trust his gut, but so do I._

Pushing the fur lined covers from her body, Deanna climbed out of the bed to get ready for the day. Her primary focus was to learn more about their mysterious host.

Thirty minutes later, she stepped out into the common area the away team had been given. Only Will was present. Closing the door to her room, she stepped over to the _Enterprise's_ executive officer.

"You look much better, Will," Troi said.

Riker tilted his head in his usual manner. "I'm feeling better. A bit stiff, but better."

She smiled then stepped around him, heading for the spread of food that had been delivered some time that morning. She could feel Riker's gaze boring into her back.

Picking up a round fruit that somewhat resembled an earth apple, she turned. "What is it?"

"You never said what Prazak projected to you."

Deanna shrugged. "Does it really matter?"

"It does to me," Riker responded immediately.

Troi took a bite of the fruit. It didn't taste like an apple. It was not nearly as sweet, but it was still pleasant to her palate. "Why?"

"Deanna," Riker sighed, "I get it. The man is charismatic. Even...handsome. But-"

"But what, Will?" Troi challenged. She knew where this conversation was headed.

"Your willingness to trust him unconditionally is concerning. I'm saying this as a superior officer and commander of this away team. Imzadi-"

Troi shook her head. "This has nothing to do with us, Will. At least not for me. I want to know more about these men. The fact that General Prazak revealed his telepathic abilities to me is significant."

Riker threw up his arms. "How?"

"That's what I intend to find out."

When the door behind Troi opened, she was relieved to see Lieutenant Sandy emerge, cutting short the conversation between her and Will.

Sandy paused. "Did I interrupt something?"

Troi shook her head. "Not at all, Lieutenant."

She swore she could hear Riker's bristling. She could definitely sense his frustration.

Moments later Worf appeared.

"Alright," Riker sighed, "Let's get to work."

* * *

For two hours Deanna had avoided Will. It irritated him to no end, yet he had to set those feelings aside at the moment and concentrate on the mission. If he was given the opportunity to communicate with the _Enterprise_ again, he wanted to ensure he had some valuable information to report.

"Ensure you're scanning as much as possible," Riker stated through the side of his mouth.

Sandy nodded. Tricorder tucked beneath his heavy overcoat, the medical technician was scanning their surroundings. Sandy had repaired one of the comm badges as well. Riker had it tucked into the folds of his cold weather coat. Between the communicator and the tricorder, he was hopeful he'd be able to transfer any data they collected to the _Enterprise's_ databanks without being detected.

Riker led the way, following the directions to the holding bay where they'd been informed the _Columbus_ was located. When they arrived, however, two armor clad guards blocked the way.

"Our ship is inside," Riker stated. "We were informed we could have access."

Neither guard responded with words. One shook his helmet covered head.

"Your General gave us permission," Worf growled.

The guard's head turned in Worf's direction. He didn't speak, but partially withdrew his sword in a show of force.

"What is the meaning of this?" Riker demanded answers.

"Commander."

Riker turned to the voice.

General Herschel stood behind the group. The large spotted cat was with him.

 _This guy is like a ghost._

"Is there a problem, Commander?" Herschel flashed a smile that held no friendliness. Riker noted his perfect teeth.

"I need to check on the status of my shuttlecraft, General." Riker motioned at the guards that blocked the way. "They are refusing to let us enter."

"They are following orders," Herschel responded.

"What is the meaning of this?" Riker narrowed his eyes as he spoke.

Herschel examined his fingernails in a nonchalant manner. "The bay is currently off limits, Commander."

"Why?"

The cat took a step forward. Riker saw the hair on its back bristling, standing on end. A deep growl rumbled in its belly. It barred its teeth at the away team.

"Zoja, zadní." Herschel said.

The cat sat back on its haunches and relaxed.

"I thought that was Prazak's pet," Worf grunted.

Herschel sneered at the Klingon. "Zoja is no one's pet, Klingon. She may have a special connection to him, but I assure you, as would he, that Zoja does not _belong_ to him."

"Where is General Prazak?" Riker asked. "I want to see my shuttlecraft. He assured us we are your guests. Let me speak with him."

Herschel smirked again. He looked down at Zoja, who stared back up at the blonde General. The cat bumped her head against the man's upper thigh. Reaching down, Herschel scratched the animal's ears while looking back at Riker and his team. "Very well. Follow me."

Riker fell in step behind the General. The rest of the team following suit.

Led down a series of grey corridors, Riker found himself wondering just how vast the complex was. In fact, he was fairly amazed that they hadn't gotten lost earlier on the way to the vehicle bay.

Soldiers stepped aside as Herschel and Zoja stalked through the passageways. All saluted the General. Herschel returned to gesture each time.

Eventually Riker and the team were led up a long, narrow stairwell. At the top was a single door. Herschel pushed it outward.

A strong gust of frigid wind assaulted the team and confirmed Riker's belief that they had been underground.

Zoja bounded out the door as Herschel nodded his head.

The team stepped outside.

Riker had to squint, allowing his eyes to adjust to the sudden change in light. The sky was overcast, just like the last time they'd been outside, yet it was still brighter than the artificial lightning of the interior of the complex.

And it was snowing.

 _Does it ever stop snowing here?_

Shrugging his shoulders, Riker braced against the chill that immediately fought to seep into his bones. He saw the rest of his team do the same. Worf was the only one trying to play it off, but Riker knew the cold was affecting his security officer as well.

Herschel on the other hand didn't seem fazed by the sudden change in temperature. He shut the door and stepped around the huddled away team.

"This way." Herschel inclined his head.

Riker stepped forward and surveyed the new surroundings. They were in some sort of yard. He could make out numerous buildings of varying shapes and sized ahead as they traversed the snow and mud covered terrain.

In the distance a stone tower rose above all else. From their current angle, it appeared to reach into the clouds.

An assortment of scents blended with the wind. Everything from the smells of fresh baked breads and cooking meats, to what Riker knew was alcohol, to animals and livestock.

And people. There were people everywhere. Soldiers, but also others.

Some stopped and stared at the group. Others ignored them completely. Riker didn't know what to say. They stepped out of the military complex straight into a bustling, if not a bit dated, metropolis.

"Will, look." Deanna shouldered against him, grabbing his attention.

She was looking back and up. Riker turned and followed her gaze. He whistled.

A massive wall, made from what appeared to be the same material as the inside of the complex, towered above. Just like everything else, it looked cold. Dominating. Unforgiving. It rose to such a height that Riker couldn't make out what was on top, if anything.

"Where are we?" he breathed.

Herschel stopped. The people within the area moved around him, giving him space. Zoja had also stopped, not venturing far from the group. The cat was currently rolling in the snow on her back. Her thick, pink tongue hanging from her mouth as her fluffy tail thumped in the mounds of snow. Some children had paused to watch. They laughed and pointed, yet they did not approach the animal.

Herschel's head move from side to side as he raised his arms, gesturing at all that surrounded them. "Welcome to Sardis Proper. City of the Freed People. Governed by the nobility, yet ruled by the One. Sardis is protected by Tarina's Army, under the command of General Prazak."

He pointed towards the sky behind the group. "Beyond the wall lies Tega Peak. The highest point of the Huron Mountains and home of the Davnora cats. Site of the Warrior Ruler's final battle and the Kindly One's gravest hour."

Riker listened to Herschel's proclamation. The man's voice boomed as he made his proud announcement. Riker imagined it wasn't often Herschel, or any others here for that matter, had the opportunity to show off their home.

Riker couldn't help being impressed.

* * *

Snowflakes melted the moment they came into contact with his skin. Stripped bare from the waist up, Prazak almost always trained in this fashion. He no longer needed to wear his armor to know how it could hinder him in combat. And exposing himself to the elements ensured he'd never suffer from winter's harsh bite.

Prazak steadied his breathing and kept his facial expression neutral while the tip of his sword brushed against his soldier's throat. "You've improved, Captain, however in battle you'd still be dead."

The beaten man gulped, his eyelids closing slightly.

"Do you know how I beat you?" Prazak asked.

"I dropped my off-shoulder," the man replied.

Prazak pulled the training sword back. It was real, yet blunted. Prazak extended his arm and his opponent grabbed it and was hauled to his feet. Prazak lowered his voice as he stepped closer to the man. "You are a fine officer, your soldiers will look to you for guidance and hope. Even in the darkest moments you cannot show exhaustion, no matter how tired you truly are. They will feed off of you and rally to you when you need them. Do not let them down."

The Captain nodded. "Yes, General."

Prazak clapped the man on the shoulder then turned. The crowd had grown, as it always did when Prazak sparred. Soldiers and civilians alike would gather in the yard to watch. Nothing, not even the falling snow, would deter them from the spectacle. The nobility would watch too, but from windows high up in the tower. They wouldn't lower themselves to mingle with the commoners.

"Now," Prazak grinned as the Captain retrieved his weapon and left the ring, "who is next?"

A few of the soldiers exchanged looks, wanting to test their skills against their Supreme Commander, but all hesitated. The young ones appeared more eager than the grizzled veterans, yet none stepped forward.

"How about me?"

Prazak frowned. Looking to his right, he saw the Starfleet personnel standing along the wooden fence. Herschel was with them. Colonel Marking leaned against the fence in a slackened posture. He looked between his two comrades; a wide grin on his face. Prazak caught the eyes of the Starfleet officers. Except for the Klingon, looks of awe were plastered on their faces. Whether the looks were from watching Prazak's sparring; seeing his perfectly defined, if somewhat scarred body; or the fact that he stood in the snow and mud wearing nothing but trousers and boots, Andrej wasn't sure. But it still made him smirk.

 _Let them wonder._

Lieutenant Worf ducked beneath the beams and entered the ring. Prazak's eyes left the others to study the Klingon.

A hush fell over the crowd. Faint murmurs could be heard, but for the most part, the onlookers were speechless. Even the Klingon's comrades had grown silent.

Prazak gave his two friends a look and subtly shook his head. Prazak nodded to Worf. "Perhaps you'd prefer we moved this to our indoor training area. I know Klingons do not like the cold."

Worf spat, "Give me a sword and I'll show you how well a Klingon can fight in the snow."

A genuine grin spread across Prazak's face. "As you wish, Klingon."

A sword was held out for Worf, but he did not take it. "Klingon's train with the weapons we use in combat."

"Unlike Klingons, Lieutenant, I prefer my soldiers to be whole for combat. We do not challenge and murder each other to gain rank or status. We are civilized."

Something that appeared to be a smile flashed across Worf's face. Prazak had never seen a Klingon smile. "Are you afraid to fight me with your sword, General?"

That was enough for Prazak. He'd been challenged in front of a large group of his soldiers. He could not allow it to stand. Moving to Marking, he said, "Give me my sword."

"Andrej-" Marking protested as he straightened his back.

"Give it to me," Prazak sneered. "I cannot allow his insult to stand. Not in front of the men."

Marking frowned, but nodded. He handed over Andrej's battle sword.

He pulled it from the sheath then tossed the leather holder back to his friend. Prazak stepped back into the training arena. "Give the Klingon an edged sword."

A soldier drew his own sword and tossed it into the ring.

Prazak paced. He flipped his sword in his palm. The feel of his own steel familiar and welcome. He briefly debated using two swords, but dismissed the thought almost immediately. He wouldn't give the Klingon any reason to question the outcome. The crowd grew both in size and noise. Prazak kept his eyes locked on Worf.

"Pick it up. I will not strike you while you are unarmed," Prazak remarked.

Worf's eyes never left Prazak's as he crouched down to retrieve the weapon.

Prazak drowned out the noises and focused on his opponent. The moment Worf's hand curled around the sword's grip, Andrej attacked.

He knew Worf would be expecting it, but wanted to keep the Klingon off guard. Swinging in a cross-arc, Andrej slashed downward, but Worf blocked the blow. He swiped at Andrej's legs and Prazak backed off. Worf rose to his full height.

"I know you observed my movements during the raid on the Ti'hi." Prazak circled. "I assure you, Lieutenant, I have much more in my arsenal."

Worf grunted and moved to strike. Prazak deflect the blow easily and countered with an elbow strike to the side of Worf's head with his off arm. Worf staggered and Prazak's elbow jarred from the impact; he'd forgotten how hard Klingon skulls were.

Pivoting, he came in from behind, crouched, turned his blade flat wise, and swept Worf's legs out from beneath him. The Klingon smacked against the ground with a muddy splash. The crowd cheered.

"Get up," Prazak spat, but Worf was already doing so. But instead of straightening completely, Worf stayed low and lunged forward. Wrapping his arms around Prazak's torso, the two combatants fell to the ground; Worf on top of the General.

Snarling, Worf cracked Prazak across the jaw with the pommel of his blade, but the awkward angle took much of the force out of the hit. Regardless, Prazak felt his teeth snap together. A collective hiss came from the crowd.

When Worf drew back from another strike, Prazak released his sword and grabbed both of Worf's arms. Pushing, Prazak immediately knew he was stronger than his opponent. Easily, he lifted Worf up and back, pulled a leg up, planted his boot into Worf's lower abdomen and kicked the Klingon back, releasing his wrists at the same time.

Worf flew backwards, but kept a hold of his weapon. He was rising back up only seconds after landing in the mud.

Prazak drew his legs up. He reached for his dropped sword just as the Klingon surged forward. Prazak grabbed his sword and raised it, blocking the downward arcing blow the Klingon was delivering.

Pushing off, he stood. "Interesting tactic, Klingon."

"In battle, one fights to win."

Spinning his blade in his grip, Prazak prowled from side to side. "And here I thought Klingons cherished honor. Yet you are not against attacking an unarmed opponent."

Worf's snarl turned into a full on roar and he rotated his sword. He charged the object of his rage; just as Prazak wanted. Worf appeared to have found some deep rooted strength and he swung his weapon in a deadly and powerful arc. Pivoting, Prazak was able to counter the attack, catching Worf's blade and sliding it off of his own.

Worf adjusted instantly. He moved in as if to attack with the same move. Prazak raised his blade to parry and immediately realized his mistake. Worf stopped, rotated his hips while at the same time changing his grip. He brought his blade across and into Prazak's exposed ribs.

The blade sliced into Prazak's side and it was only by Prazak's last second pivot that he prevented Worf from burying the sword deep into his body.

Prazak's feet kept moving. Spinning he managed to put distance between himself and his opponent.

Worf's assault had drawn blood. A quite a bit. However, Andrej didn't look at the wound. He didn't need to. He could feel the warmness of his own blood running down his side. It was a good hit, but not life threatening in the slightest. He'd recover. Quickly.

Prazak ignored the pain and found his footing.

Prazak took a step backwards and spat. "You want a real fight, Klingon?"

Ramming the point of his sword into the mud, Prazak stretched his arms out to the sides."You drew my blood. And for that we shall all watch as another Klingon bleeds out upon the ground of Sardis."

Worf hesitated, but Prazak knew of the bloodlust of his opponent's species. He played off of that. "Fight me, Klingon. Fight me as if you mean to kill me. Or yield if you cannot."

Worf's growl morph into a full on battle cry. Gripping the sword with two hands, he thrust it forward like a spear as he charged. Prazak smirked. He sidestepped the charge, pulled his sword from the mud and sliced across Worf's back as he passed. He hit the Klingon with the flat of the blade, but turned it at the very end of the charge, slicing Worf's tunic and drawing a line of blood.

Worf's back arched. He turned and attacked again.

Prazak let him advance. Worf was definitely skilled, but Prazak was better; even with his wounds. He also wasn't letting his emotions control his actions, even if he made his opponent believe he was doing just that.

In another attempt to thrust his blade forward, Worf slipped in the mud, his legs stretching outward. Prazak stepped back and let him recover his footing. Worf swung the sword upward and Prazak leaned back, the blade singing past his throat. Worf was already adjusting and when he brought the blade back around for another blow, Prazak parried the attack, rotated his wrists and twisted his hips.

Worf's sword shot from his hands as Prazak expertly disarmed the Klingon. With a grunt, Prazak thrust his foot forward and kicked Worf in the chest, sending him back down into the mud and snow.

Prazak knew he had to end it. Before Worf could get back up, Prazak came to stand over him. He placed his feet in a position that would not allow Worf to kick Prazak's legs out. He lowered the tip of his sword to Worf's throat.

He pressed with enough force to remind the Klingon that it was he, not Prazak, that had insisted on fighting with sharpened steel. "Yield."

Worf sneered. "Never."

Prazak pushed harder and ever so slightly pierced Worf's skin. "Yield, Lieutenant. You've lost. But I admit, I was wrong earlier. You do fight with honor. Now yield and retain your honor so one day you can fight your real enemies with equal fervor."

Worf appeared to want to speak again.

Prazak cocked his head while keeping the tip of his blade firmly against Worf's throat. "The ultimate honor for a Klingon is to die in battle, yes?"

Worf nodded as best he could against the point of Prazak's sword.

"Do you wish to die in battle, Lieutenant Worf?"

"Yes. Only by dying an honorable death can I ascend to Sto-vo-kor," Word responded.

Prazak inclined his head. His blade remained in place. "Your afterlife?"

Worf sneered and nodded once.

"And if you were to die in a training arena, this training arena, you would not be allowed to enter?"

Worf kept his eyes locked on Prazak's as he shook his head.

At that moment, Prazak's growing respect for the Klingon was solidified. If Prazak was going to kill him, then Worf would refuse to close his eyes. Refuse to look away. Or make Andrej look away. And Prazak could respect traditions and beliefs, even if he didn't truly believe in such things himself.

Prazak pulled the blade from Worf's throat. "You are a worthy opponent, Lieutenant Worf." He extended his hand. "No one has landed such a blow upon me as of late. If we were ever in the same battle, I would be honored to fight at your side."

Worf hesitated, but eventually grabbed Prazak's hand. Andrej pulled him up. To Prazak's surprise, Worf said, "As I you, General."

Prazak laughed. The crowd hesitated for a brief moment then began to clap and cheer. Worf retrieved his fallen sword, wiped it clean on his tunic and moved to hand it back to the soldier that had thrown it.

Prazak stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Keep it. You've earned it. He can get another. Perhaps you will have a chance to use it in combat."

Worf's reply came from deep within his chest. "You honor me, General."

Prazak set his jaw and nodded. "Just do not let it be the day you die."

* * *

Riker felt a subtle nudge as the crowd began to disperse. Riker, just like everyone else present, had been captivated by the sword fight between Worf and Prazak. It wasn't often that Worf was bested in hand to hand and melee combat.

He was nudged again.

"Sir-" Sandy hissed.

Riker looked at the man. "What is it?"

Sandy pulled his jacket back a little, revealing the tricorder. "I was able to scan General Prazak."

Riker's eyebrows shot up. He couldn't help put steal a quick glance towards Prazak. He was still conversing with Worf at the far edge of the ring.

Riker looked back at his medical technician. "And?"

Sandy moved in a way that allowed Riker to read the tricorder without anyone else seeing what they were doing.

Riker sucked in a lungful of frigid air. "Are you sure?"

Sandy frowned. In a low voice that only Riker could hear he replied, "If the tricorder is functioning properly, yes, sir. General Prazak is human."

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: A special thanks to ljs1138 for helping with the page breaks. I'd also like to mention Goddess Evie (a friend from the TRAJQ fandom) who provided me with a guide on dialogue punctuation. I'm not perfect, but her assistance has really helped me with my writing!**

 **Please enjoy!**

* * *

After maneuvering through the bustling metropolis for almost two hours, Riker eventually found a deserted back alley off of one of the main thoroughfares. He'd told his escort, General Herschel that the team wanted to explore the city on their own. Herschel had agreed. Will assumed the blonde General was happy to be rid of Riker and his team for the time being. Riker had watched as the General returned to his friends and departed.

The truth to the matter was Will couldn't risk returning to their provided quarters at the moment. Even within the city there was the potential that their communications could be monitored, yet he'd feel safer making the transmission outside the confines of the military complex. It was a risk he had to take.

The alley also provided a certain level of protection against the wind, but it was still cold and the team huddled close together.

Riker eyed the sword Word carried. He couldn't help smirking. "Nice sword."

Worf grunted, "It is of fine quality and craftsmanship. Obviously not as impressive as Prazak's blade, but still a fine weapon."

Riker nodded a little.

Troi blew into her hands. "What have we learned? Why the secrecy?"

Riker nodded to Sandy. "Scan Worf's sword and tunic."

Sandy waved the tricorder. "There is some residual blood on both. Scanning now."

When he finished, he handed the device over to Will. Riker frowned. "Prazak's blood confirms it. He's human."

"Human?" Troi exhaled.

Worf shook his head. "Impossible. He was skilled, I give him that, but his physical strength is not consistent with humans. He easily lifted me off of him. I've never seen a human perform an act with such ease."

"And humans aren't telepathic," Troi added.

"It's not unheard of," Sandy countered.

Troi looked at the tech. "Yes, there have been rare cases documented over the years, but it is extremely rare. And nothing like what I experienced from him. And what of his resistance to the weather?"

"Acclimated?" Riker shrugged.

"Sir," Sandy took the tricorder back, "I was unable to scan the other General or the Colonel, but do you believe these men may be from the lost shuttlecraft?"

"That's one possibility." Riker stroked his beard and glanced around the alley. Loud voices filtered through a window of the structure adjacent to where they stood. From the sounds and smells, Riker assumed it could be a pub, eating establishment, or both.

He turned his attention back to his team. "We have to act fast. They could grow suspicious if we're gone too long."

"Will, do you think we're in danger?" Troi asked.

Riker shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is that these men are hiding something and I think it's more than the fact that they're human."

"They claim their enemies killed the shuttlecraft crew," Word stated. "What if that is a lie? What if Prazak and his men are the real killers?"

"Which means that shuttle was sent here for a reason. A reason worth killing for to keep secret." Riker frowned.

Troi was shaking her head. "This is all speculation. We don't even know that the shuttlecraft crew was murdered. What we should be doing is trying to find the craft."

"Suggestions?" Riker raised an eyebrow at her. "They aren't letting us near our own shuttlecraft. How do you suggest we search for the beacon?"

"Let me talk to Prazak," Troi responded immediately. "Maybe I can convince him to take us to the last known location of the beacon."

Riker didn't like where Deanna was going. The last thing he wanted was for any of his team to be separated and alone with their "hosts".

Riker waved off the suggestion for now. "First things first."

With one more glance around the alley to ensure they were alone, Riker reached into his coat and tapped the comm badge. "Riker to _Enterprise._ "

* * *

Back in the comfort of his quarters, Prazak raised his arm in order to see his wound in a better light. The bleeding had stopped, but the side of his torso was still caked with dried blood. All that Prazak really cared about was that the wound itself was already beginning to heal.

Prazak smirked. Out loud he growled, "You were lucky, Klingon."

Zoja, sitting back on her haunches, was watching him with keen interest. Her eye color was a burnt orange with a tint of yellow around the edges. A sign that Prazak had learned meant the cat was agitated.

He smiled at the feline. "Nothing to be worried about, my dear. As you can see, it is already beginning to heal."

A low rumbling echoed in the cat's chest. Prazak sighed then headed to his bed chamber in order to clean up. Zoja followed.

When he emerged from the wash room twenty or so minutes later, Prazak found Zoja lying flat at the foot of his bed. Her head rested on her front legs and her tailed twitched back and forth. Her eyes, locked on him, had not yet changed color.

Quickly, he donned a fresh pair of trousers. Crouching down, Prazak cupped the animal's massive maw in his hands. Staring into her eyes he twisted his torso and said, "Look, I'm better already."

Zoja mewed and licked his cheek. Prazak laughed and the animal's eyes changed back to her normal blue of contentment. Prazak patted the cat's head before letting her go. "I told you I'd be fine."

As wound up as he was, Andrej knew he needed a short rest. It would help him heal faster. He also knew that word of his actions in the training arena would soon reach the tower and he'd be summoned to answer for himself.

"The Klingon challenged me," Prazak grumbled while getting into his bed. "What should I have done?"

The huff from Zoja made Prazak chuckle. Pulling the fur lined blanket over his legs, Prazak ran his hands thru his hair, clasping them together behind his head. When he closed his eyes, he felt sleep encroaching almost instantly.

When it finally took him, Prazak was assaulted by dreams he hadn't had in a very long time.

He dreamt of home.

* * *

"Sir, incoming audio transmission from Commander Riker," the ensign seated at the communication console stated.

 _Finally._

Picard stood. " _Enterprise_ here. Report, Number One."

"Captain," Riker's voice bled through the audio ports of the bridge, "we're still gathering data and have not yet been able to return to the _Columbus_."

"Why not?"

"They have it in a cargo bay under armed guard. Not sure what, if anything, they are doing to the ship."

Picard nodded, even though Riker couldn't see him. "What else, Commander? Team status?"

"We're all fine, but Lieutenant Worf's ego might be a little bruised."

Picard smirked. As curious as Riker's statement made him, it wasn't his immediate concern at the moment. "Any news on the beacon?"

"No, Sir." Riker sounded dejected. "However, we were able to repair one of the tricorders and conducted scans on our surroundings and our host. His name is Andrej Prazak and from what we can tell, he's human. If we can find out more about him and his compatriots we might be able to learn more about the beacon."

Picard glanced at his android officer. "Mister Data."

Data stood and moved to the console next to the communications Ensign. Fingers flying over the controls, Data took a brief moment to glance back at the Captain. "Receiving tricorder uplink now," he reported.

"Good work, Will," Picard stated. "We'll review this information and see what we can learn."

"Captain, they don't know that we've repaired the tricorder or the comm badge. I'd like to keep it that way. I'd also like to keep these transmission as short as possible in order to avoid detection. We don't know if we're being monitored."

"Understood. Use your discretion and call us when you can."

"Captain, any information we learn I can send back to the tricorder through relay." Data's eyes sifted through the information scrolling over the screen.

Picard nodded to the android. "Yes, make it so. Will, be safe down there and continue to transmit whatever new information your team uncovers."

"Aye Aye, Sir."

"And find that beacon. Picard Out."

Data turned from the console. "Sir, I shall begin researching this information. Perhaps this man's true identity will aid us in our investigation into the beacon. Both its location on the surface and even its origins."

"Riker stated they believe this Prazak fellow is human," Picard mused.

"Yes, Sir. The tricorder scan indicates as much. They also sent a blood sample, although I am not certain how they obtained it."

"Possibly something to do with Mister Worf's bruised ego?" Picard smiled and tapped his badge. "Picard to Doctor Crusher."

The response was almost immediate. "Crusher here."

"Doctor, please join myself and Mister Data on the bridge."

"On my way."

"I want answers, Mister Data. And I want them sooner rather than later."

"Understood, Captain."

* * *

Riker closed the tricorder, handing it back to Lieutenant Sandy. "If there's any information out there on these men Data will find it."

"What now?" Worf asked.

Troi was watching the interaction. She still wasn't convinced they were following the right line of inquiry. She couldn't explain why, but her feelings led her to believe that Riker was wrong about Prazak and his men. She did not doubt they were hiding something, but she didn't feel it was murder and ill-will.

Whether Riker agreed or not, Troi was determined to speak with Prazak alone.

"I don't see us getting access to the _Columbus_ any time soon," Riker was saying. "So perhaps we partake in the local culture for a bit? Get out of the cold?"

"It is freezing out here." Sandy wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't see how people can live in these temperatures."

"Or walk around with barely any clothing on," Worf agreed.

Riker smirked. "Somehow I think our friend Prazak likes to show off more than just his fighting skills. Come on, let's see what's going on in that establishment over there."

Troi bit back a smile before it appeared on her face. Riker had been right about a few things in regards to Prazak. The General was charismatic, handsome, and in peak physical shape. Troi hadn't been able to take her eyes off of him during the entire fight with Worf.

Lost in her thoughts, Deanna hadn't even realized they'd exited the alley and entered the building until the change in temperature smacked her in the face.

Blinking, she surveyed the establishment. Or more accurately, she surveyed the people that were staring back at her and the other officers.

A conglomerate of patrons occupied the building which Troi knew immediately was a drinking establishment; a pub. Just like Ten Forward, it wasn't hard to recognize a local gathering hole when she saw one. Deanna could smell what had to be food, but she could not place the exact scents to identify the dishes.

The appearance of the Starfleet personnel had silenced the room. Soldiers and civilians alike were gathered. The soldiers were all armed to some capacity and she noted a few different uniform colors and styles. Most of the soldiers were not wearing their helmets; obviously off duty. The one that did were not drinking, only standing by, watching the crowd. She finally was able to get a good look at them. One thing she hadn't realized until now, there were both male and female soldiers. Similar in appearance to the purple-armored man that had met Prazak upon their arrival, their facial features and body compositions were similar to humanoids. The civilians were the same. And even more there was a mix of people that possessed even different features, almost like a mash of human and Sardisians; Troi didn't know how else to refer to the others in her mind. So far, they had yet to run into any other people that looked completely human other than Prazak and his two friends.

"Counselor?" Riker squeaked from the side of his mouth.

Troi shook her head. "They're curious. Some even awestruck. But they aren't afraid of us."

"Why should they be?" Sandy chuckled humorlessly. "The soldiers are all armed and I imagine some of the others are too."

"Come on." Riker inclined his head.

Staying at his side, Troi followed Riker to a nearby table. People parted way as they passed. Troi could hear a few soldiers mumbling and nodding at Worf. They must have been present, or had at least heard, about the fight a while ago. Either that or they were speaking about whatever had happened in the past that involved the Klingons and these people.

The away team sat at the table. Glancing about, Troi couldn't help admiring the decor of the place. It had an old world feel to it, but definitely decorated with a militaristic and historical theme. Artwork that reminded her of ancient family coats of arms hung upon the walls as well as paintings similar to the battlefield canvass back in the conference room.

A wooden bar ran the length of the far wall. Troi could barely make it out due to the number of people that stood around or near it. To the left of the bar, hanging on the wall was a grouping of four portraits. Two were of older men dressed in what had to be military uniforms. The third was also a man, but younger with a thinner countenance and stately attire. The third was of a young girl wearing an elegant gown and jewelry. All four had similar facial features leading Troi to conclude the people portrayed in the paintings were all related.

"Wonder how we get some service around here?" Riker chuckled.

"Normally you just ask."

Troi twisted in her chair. Standing behind herself and Riker was Colonel Marking.

Wearing a grin and holding a dark mug in his hand, the Colonel looked at each of the officers in turn. Then he turned his head, shouted across the room, and looked back at the others.

Suddenly the noise and chatter returned to the pub. Patrons picked back up in whatever conversations they'd been engaged in prior to the away team's arrival. Some still stole glances at the table, but for the most part they were ignored.

Marking grabbed the back of a chair from the next table and pulled it over, inviting himself to join them. Troi saw it as an opportunity and from the look in Riker's eyes, he did as well.

Marking drank from his mug as another man appeared with a tray. Lowering it, he set four mugs similar to the one Marking held on the table. He also had a large blown-glass cravat and from it dispensed liquids into each of the cups.

Marking spoke to the man who nodded and left the cravat on the table before he bowed slightly and hurried away.

"Drink." Marking nodded at the cups. "Are you hungry? Do you care to eat?"

Troi saw the hesitation amongst her counterparts. Grabbing the mug in front of her, she lifted it to her lips and drank.

She tried, unsuccessfully, not to cough.

Marking was grinning like a cat.

"It's...different." Troi patted her chest. She took another drink. The second was not nearly as bad as the first.

She shot a subtle nod to Will to convey the idea not offend the Colonel. Riker took the hint and drank. Sandy and Worf did the same. Only Worf appeared not to react negatively to the mysterious drink.

Riker sucked in a breath and set the mug down. "What is that?"

Marking laughed. "Do Starfleet officers not drink alcohol?"

"Synthehol," Riker replied.

Marking arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"Synthetic alcohol," Riker explained. "Tastes and smells the same as real alcohol but with none of the nasty side effects."

Marking smirked. "Where's the fun in that?" He looked at Worf. "How is your back, Lieutenant?"

Worf cocked his head from side to side. "Fine. Merely a scratch. Nothing more."

Marking shook his head, but said nothing.

Troi glanced around the room before looking back at Marking. "Where are your friends?"

"You refer to Herschel and Prazak? They are occupied at the moment."

"Isn't it a little early in the day to be drinking?" Riker asked while taking another sip of his drink.

Troi smiled at the irony.

Marking leaned back and indicated the room with a nod of his head. "This establishment, like many others, does not close its doors, Commander. These people, soldier, city guard and civilian alike, work many strenuous hours all through the day and night. They come here to unwind after duty."

"What's on top of the wall?" Sandy asked.

"Guards." was all Marking said.

"And beyond it?" Troi inquired.

Marking set his cup down. "I believe you already know the answer to that. Out of all the things I imagine you would like to know, you ask about the wall? Odd. It's a defensive fortification meant to keep the Ti'hi at bay. They cannot scale it or breach it."

"Then why are you at war with the Ti'hi?" Riker asked. "It sounds like you are safe behind this wall."

"We are, yes," Marking nodded while refilling his mug from the cravat. "However our citizens that live on the other side are not. The one that found your craft for example. We would've never known about it if that boy had not wandered off in search of his lost sheep. We also have alliances with others outside the wall."

"How do you know of the Klingons?" Worf questioned.

Marking frowned. Turning he waved, made a gesture with his fingers at the bartender then pointed at Worf. With the back of his neck partially exposed, Troi's eyes were drawn to a gruesome scar on Marking's neck. The raised skin was pale and the wound looked old, but whatever had happened to him must have been quite serious. The scar started just behind the man's right ear and ran across the base of his head, traveling down the side of his neck and disappearing beneath his clothing and armor. Troi wondered just how far the scar went.

When he turned back towards the officers, Troi quickly adjusted her gaze as not to get caught staring. Marking hadn't seemed to notice.

The Colonel remained silent until the bartender arrived back at the table. He set a new mug in front of Worf then scurried back to his other patrons.

Marking nodded at the mug. Picking it up, Worf sniffed the contents. His eyes narrowed as he raised the mug and took a drink. He drained the entire contents.

"Prune juice?" Riker joked.

Worf's eyes remained locked on Marking. "Bloodwine."

"After your fight today I figured you deserved a taste of your homeworld," Marking stated.

"How? Replicated?"

"Replicated?" Marking repeated. "Ah, you refer to the devices on your starship. No, Lieutenant, that bloodwine is real. Taken from the ships' stores when we defeated the Klingon invaders. Most here do not care for the drink, hence why the barrels still remain."

"What do you mean by invaders?" Riker asked.

It appeared Marking's tongue was loosening as he drank. "What do you think I mean, Commander? A complement of Klingon vessels landed here and invaded our home. They focused the majority of their forces against the Huron people on the other side of the mountains. Probably because they were defenseless. Sardis and Huron hold a long standing alliance against the Ti'hi, but really against any invader that would do the other harm. The wall you asked about earlier was built with Huron materials transported from the other side of the mountain."

Marking shifted a little in his chair. Deanna forced herself not to look at the scar again.

Mug in hand, Marking pointed at the portraits Troi had been studying earlier. He indicated the second from the left. "The Warrior Ruler. That was his final battle. Ask Prazak. He was there. Ask him to tell you how he received the sword he carries. I was on the advance mission that arrived back at Sardis prior to the battle. When we got word of the ambush and returned to the site," he paused for another drink, "let me just say that by the time I arrived with reinforcements there was no more enemy left to kill."

"And this battle was with Klingons?" Worf didn't sound convinced.

Marking shook his head. "No. Forgive me, sometimes I get caught up in a tale. The Klingons came later. We do not know what they wanted, probably just another planet to add to their Empire. We didn't bother to ask them and we left none alive to tell us."

"You killed them all?" Troi breathed.

"Not before they killed many innocent people. Prazak warned you that some here would not take kindly to Lieutenant Worf. That is why. However, as word spreads of your fight with him today and his acceptance of you, I'm sure you'll have nothing to worry about."

"Prazak's word carries that much weight?" Riker questioned while taking another drink.

"He is the Supreme Commander," Marking answered with a surprised look; as if no one had ever asked such a question before.

"And that means-"

Marking slammed his mug down with such force it rattled the table. Nearby soldiers turned their attention to the group. Troi noted they reached for their weapons.

"Enough of your questions," Marking growled, his mood shifting in a blink of an eye. "Why are you here?"

"We told you," Riker replied. Troi noted Will was not intimidated by the Colonel's sudden change in demeanor. "We are in search of a lost Starfleet vessel. If you'd let us return to our craft, we can search for it on our own."

Marking's smile was gone, replaced by a scowl. "A convenient story."

"Why do you doubt us?" Troi asked.

Marking's brow furrowed. "Perhaps for the same reasons you doubt our hospitality is genuine. You distrust us. Therefore, we distrust you."

"What are you hiding, Colonel?" Riker asked bluntly.

"Will-" Troi started.

Marking turned his eyes towards her. "You believe us, Counselor."

Troi started back at the man. Was he telepathic as well?

Troi didn't respond, choosing instead to erect a barrier in her mind against intrusions.

The Colonel stood. He placed his palms flat against the table and leaned forward. "Finish your drinks. They are already paid for. Then return to the rooms we gave you." With a nod of his head he drew two soldiers to him. A moment later his scowl disappeared and his visage softened a little. But only a little. "My scouts will escort you safely back to the complex. In the meantime, I will speak with General Prazak and the nobility in regards to allowing you to search on your own for your alleged craft."

Before any member of the team could respond, Marking pushed off the table, spun on his heel and headed for the door. People moved from his path quicker than Troi thought was possible. The Colonel pushed through the door without a glance back at the group.

Once again all remaining eyes were on the team. It was clear they'd worn out their welcome at the establishment.

"That went well." Riker laughed.

Troi closed her eyes. They'd been making progress, but had pushed just a bit too far. She couldn't help wondering how they'd be received the next time they saw Prazak and Herschel.

* * *

Alone, Andrej poured himself a cup of clear liquid as Zoja found her spot in front of the fire. His rest had lasted longer than he'd planned and he'd woken hours later. But he'd needed the rest and an examination of his wound showed it had closed and was almost completely healed.

His dreams had disturbed him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd dreamt of home with such clarity and vibrancy. It was something that he rarely thought about anymore, so to have the dreams, which were more like memories, appear now confused Andrej. And when he'd woken, he was angry. Angry at what his mind had conjured; reminding him of a time he'd rather forget. Reminding him of what he'd lost.

To clear his head, Prazak checked his communiques. Returning to the here and now was what mattered; not the past.

Scrolling through the messages, Prazak found a number of different actions that required his attention. Field reports from daily patrols; maintenance sheets detailing the readiness of his ground combat fleet; a report of two intoxicated soldiers fighting with the city guard resulting in a broken nose for one of his soldiers and a stay in the city holding area for both.

He shook his head at that. The nobility and their rules in regards to the soldiers always irked Prazak, however there was little he could do to change it. The soldiers would have to deal with the consequences and punishments they received from both the nobility and their immediate commanders.

Separate from his normal messages was a private one from Marking. He'd detailed an encounter with the Starfleet personnel that included the many questions they had asked the scout commander. Prazak sent a reply back. He'd meet up with Marking and Herschel later to discuss prior to Marking's departure on an observation mission into the mountains later that evening.

Setting the device down, Prazak drained the contents of his glass. He put it aside and opened a drawer in one of the pieces of furniture next to the couch. He withdrew a hard case and took it to the table. Taking a seat, he opened the case.

Zoja was watching him again.

"You know it is necessary," he said to the animal. Prazak did not consider Zoja a pet in the traditional sense, but the bond he had formed with the feline since she was young had created a unique connection between man and beast. Even though there were many that believed he could, Prazak could not communicate with the cat. But he had learned to read her emotions, through her eyes and her behavior, and had taken comfort in Zoja's presence on more than one occasion. She was also battle tested, following him into combat multiple times. A blacksmith had even crafted Zoja her own set of armor. It was on its own rack next to Prazak's. The rug the feline favored, placed in front of the fire, had been handcrafted by the wife of a fallen soldier. The woman had made and presented the gift to the cat as thanks for killing the Ti'hi that had slain her husband. Zoja often received gifts from the people of Sardis.

Looking away from the animal, Prazak withdrew a number of items from the case. A syringe. A bottle of dark blue liquid. Rubber blocks. He filled the syringe completely with the blue liquid, the consistency of which was thick and muddy. Prazak hated it.

Setting it down, he inhaled and exhaled a number of times. When he was ready he placed the rubber blocks in the back of his mouth, between his teeth.

Picking up the syringe, Prazak leaned back in his chair, extending and flattening his torso. He placed his free hand on the side of his abdomen then pushed the syringe into his flesh. When the needle was inserted completely, he depressed the syringe, injecting the blue liquid into his body.

The intensity of the burn was something he'd never gotten used to and probably never would. Yet, at this point, the alternative was far worse. The rubber blocks prevented him from clamping his mandibles together against the pain and when he withdrew the needle, he dropped it and lowered his head to the table. Reaching forward he grasped the edges of the table, clutching tighter as the agonizing pain intensified. He felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead and his breathing became labored.

The door chimed, indicating someone was on the other side.

 _Who the hell is bothering me right now?_ _Herschel or Marking responding to my message perhaps?_

The door chimed again. Prazak banged his head on the table then stuck a hand in his mouth to remove the blocks.

"Zoja, otevřeno."

The cat mewed then headed to the door. He'd trained her to open the door on command long ago.

When he heard the doors swish open, Zoja made another noise. Prazak didn't look up. "What is it? You know this is my time-"

There was a pause. Then a shushed, "General."

Prazak's eyes shot open. Letting go of the table, he turned his head as he sat up straight. He ignored the pain that flared in his torso from the sudden move. "You? What are you doing here?"

Standing at the doorway was the Betazoid from the starship, Counselor Deanna Troi. She was staring at him, but Prazak saw her eyes wander to the needle he'd dropped on the floor.

Prazak stood with such swiftness that the chair he'd been seated in fell over. Troi visibly flinched and even shrunk a little from his sudden movements. "What are you doing here? How did you get up here?"

Troi blinked, but to her credit she regained her composure. Stepping forward, the doors closed behind her. "A soldier escorted me here. I wanted to speak with you. Privately."

"I am in no need of counseling," Prazak growled.

"I'm not here to counsel you, General."

"Then why are you here?"

"I want to learn more about you," Troi stated evenly.

Prazak saw her eyes wander to the syringe again. Stepping forward, he snatched it off the floor and quickly put it and the rest of the items back into the container. He up righted the chair. "This is nothing to concern yourself with. It is medication."

Troi nodded her head a little. "For the injury you sustained earlier?"

Prazak said nothing.

Troi took a step towards him and nodded at his side. "May I see?"

Prazak's eyes went narrow. "What is this?"

"Perhaps you were not injured as badly as it appeared out in the training ring. It looks like your wound has already healed."

Prazak smirked and raised his arm. "Mostly."

"Impressive." Troi raised her eyes to meet his. "All of it. You are in remarkable shape, General. I know that can help with the healing process."

Prazak lowered his arm. "Call me Andrej. There is no need for such formalities in this setting. Would you care for a drink?"

"Yes, thank you," Deanna remarked. "And please call me Deanna."

Prazak nodded. He disappeared into his bedroom long enough to retrieve a shirt. Pulling it on over his head, he came back and poured a glass of the clear liquid for Deanna and another for himself. The pain from his injection was subsiding.

He handed the glass to her then motioned for her to take a seat on the couch.

He studied her movements as she sat down. Prazak remained standing. "Please forgive my abruptness when you arrived. I was not expecting anyone and certainly not you. But again, I ask, why are you here? Are your accommodations not satisfactory?"

Deanna sniffed the drink. Taking a sip her nose curled up and she tried not to choke. Prazak smiled and took a sip of his own drink. "It takes some getting used to."

Deanna nodded and set the glass down. Turning in her seat, she said, "I'm sure it does. And the accommodations are very nice. Thank you. You've been very kind to us from the beginning."

Prazak downed the rest of his drink. "You did not come all the way up to the tower to find me and talk about my kindness. You have questions."

"I do."

"Then ask your questions, Deanna." He purposefully left out his knowledge of her earlier encounter with Marking.

Deanna was straight to the point. "You're a telepath."

Prazak knew it wasn't a question. He nodded. "I am."

"Are you from this planet?"

Prazak smirked. "I am not. Do not tiptoe around the issue. Ask me what you really want to know. Ask me if I am human."

"Are you?"

"What do you think?"

"Humans are not telepathic," Deanna stated.

"Then by that logic, I must not be human."

"Did you come here on the ship that we are searching for? The one with the beacon?"

Prazak shook his head. "No."

Deanna paused for a long moment.

"You are using your empathic abilities to determine if I am telling the truth." Prazak poured himself another drink. "I can see why such talents are lucrative to Starfleet. It provides quite the advantage, I would assume, in negotiations or covert operations."

Deanna frowned a little. "We do not use our abilities to harm others."

Prazak scratched at the stubble along his jawline. "May I ask you some questions, Deanna?"

Her eyes fluttered. "Of course."

"Why are you distrustful of me? Why do you assume that I have some ulterior motive in helping you and your crew?"

"I don't."

"Do not lie to me, Deanna," Prazak tsked. "I don't need to be a telepath to know when someone is lying."

Deanna was steadfast in her response. "I don't. But my team is not certain."

Prazak set his glass down without drinking the contents. Crossing his arms over his chest he asked, "Why?"

Troi shrugged. "I shouldn't speak for them."

"Your Commander did not want you to come see me," Prazak guessed. "But you came here anyway."

Troi nodded. "I'm not afraid of you, Andrej."

He smiled at that. "That is good to hear. My intention is not to make you afraid. I want nothing more than to see you all return to your ship and leave our planet. However, I know you will not do so until you find the answers you seek." He narrowed his gaze. "All of them."

Deanna smiled back. "Now, Andrej, I don't have to be an empath to know that statement was not entirely true."

Prazak huffed. "Which part?"

"About you wanting all of us to return to our ship."

Prazak uncrossed his arms and turned away from the woman. What she said was true, he didn't want them all to return. He wanted her to stay. Ever since he had first saw her in the Ti'hi cell he'd been intrigued by Counselor Troi. Her abilities and her beauty.

"A foolish thought," Prazak sighed without looking at her. "And unrealistic. I apologize for thinking such things."

Deanna's chuckled caused him to turn back towards her. She was standing, studying him. "You flatter me, Andrej."

Prazak shook his head. He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. It was rare that Prazak found himself speechless.

"I know you are a busy man, but can I ask you one more question before I depart for the evening?"

Prazak waved a hand at her to proceed.

"These feelings you have for me. Are they the reason you won't help us find the beacon?"

It wasn't really what he was expecting her to ask, but it made sense. He shook his head. "Not at all. As I told your Commander numerous times, we are at war. We believe the Ti'hi are consolidating. Banding together under one unknown leader to carry out an assault on Sardis. It is too dangerous to allow you to venture out on your own."

"I thought the Ti'hi could not breach your wall."

Prazak smirked. "Marking talks a bit too much when he drinks. But he is correct; at present they cannot. If you have a few moments I'd like to show you something."

Deanna nodded.

Prazak disappeared into another room then returned with a map. Clearing the table, he unfolded the parchment and spread it out. Deanna stood next to him. Her closeness intrigued him. She definitely was not afraid, but for the briefest of moments Prazak felt she might have similar feelings for him as he had for her.

 _Stop it. Concentrate on your duties._

Prazak shook his head and pointed at the map. "Sardis Proper. The city was established here due to the natural defenses surrounding it. The Huron Mountains and this," he indicated a large river, "the Fila River. You see, Counselor, the Ti'hi fear moving water. They will travel well out of their way in order to avoid bodies of water like rivers and lakes."

"Interesting," Deanna mused.

Prazak pointed at a large mass of water to the west. "The Frozen Lake. That is where we found you. Over the years we have forced the Ti'hi back beyond the Lake, where the majority of them now live. However, lately, due to the upcoming winters they have grown more daring and venture further and further out of their lands."

Troi looked at him. "Wait. Approaching winters? Is it not winter already?"

Prazak laughed deeply. "This is nothing, Deanna. While there are raider sects, like the ones that captured your team, our intel leads us to believe the vast majority of the Ti'hi are consolidating in this region." He gestured to an area of the map that depicted mountains and forests.

Troi nodded a little. Turning back to the map she gestured to the far side of the river. When she did her fingers grazed over the back of his hand that held the edge of the map. Prazak tried desperately to ignore the touch, but he desired to feel it again.

"Why not build your cities on the other side of the river? Away from the Ti'hi? Let them have this land and your people have that side?"

Prazak blinked. He'd heard the question, but was thinking more about the woman that asked it. He cleared his thoughts and answered. "That land cannot support life. It is harsh and toxic. Nothing can survive there. No. This is the only side that people can live on. And even if it was habitable, why should we be forced to flee?"

"How did this war start? Over land rights?"

Prazak pulled the map back and folded it up. "It started because the Ti'hi had enslaved the people of Sardis. They controlled this city, which was little more than a fishing village, and all the land south of the Huron Mountains. When the people of Sardis were finally set free the remaining Ti'hi declared war against those that had taken away their slave labor. We've been fighting ever since. If the Ti'hi win my people will be forced back into slavery, just as their ancestors were. As Supreme Commander I am charged with ensuring that never happens."

Troi tapped her chin with a finger. "Have you tried a diplomatic solution?"

Prazak smirked. "You saw the Ti'hi that took you prisoner. Do you really think they are willing to discuss diplomatic terms?"

"So instead you fight." Troi concluded.

"What other option is there? Many years ago I made the mistake of sitting by and doing nothing. Innocents were slaughtered as a result of my inaction. As long as I am alive I refuse to allow that to happen again."

Troi appeared taken aback by his words. She began to pace. Prazak studied her every step. She paused in front of the stand that held his armor plates and sword.

She brushed a hand over the inlaid designs on the chest plate. Prazak narrowed his gaze. "You don't approve."

Deanna turned back to him. "General, we did not come here to question your way of life. We came to find our ship, that's all. But what we've found...I will say, I am both intrigued and frightened. Endless war. Death. Misery. It is no way for people to live."

Prazak shrugged. "It is how we survive, Deanna. The people you encountered today, did they appear downtrodden and miserable to you?"

She glanced at the armor and sword one more time before looking back at him. She didn't answer his question.

"Will you stay and have dinner with me?" He asked suddenly before he realized how foolish it sounded.

Deanna smiled a little. She came over and stood in front of him. Reaching down she took his hands. Prazak had no idea what she was doing as she looked at his hands, rubbing her thumbs along his palms. He resisted every thought that her touch conjured in his mind.

She looked up at him. "You've been fighting a long time. Your entire life."

"Longer than you think, Deanna," Prazak stated.

"It's all you know, isn't it?"

Prazak scowled. "It's who I am."

A flash of searing pain shot through Prazak's head at that moment. Pulling back, he tore his hands from Deanna's and pressed them against the sides of his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, he hunched over and retreated a few steps back.

"Andrej!" Deanna exclaimed. "Andrej, what's wrong?"

Zoja roared as Prazak shook his head. "Stay away from me. It...it will pass."

He could hear the worry in her voice. "Andrej?"

"Just stay back, Deanna. And stay out of my head."

"I'm not intruding," Deanna stated.

Prazak gritted his teeth. "I know. It's not you."

She went silent and for that Prazak was thankful. He kept his hands pressed to his skull. The pain grew in intensity and then as quickly as it had arrived, it vanished.

Slowly he lowered his hands. His legs shook and he staggered. Counselor Troi was on him before he sank to his knees. Wrapping her arms around his back and under his arms, she tried her best to balance against his weight.

"Thank you," he breathed.

Deanna led him to the couch and helped him sit. She sat with him.

Prazak took a number of deep breaths. Zoja came over and put her head on his knee. "I'm okay." He looked at Troi. "Really. I'm okay. I'm sorry you had to witness that."

Zoja mewed and Prazak stroked her head. The cat's soft fur was warm and comforting. The feline started to purr.

"What happened?" Deanna asked. Then she shook her head. "I'm sorry. That's none of my business."

Prazak smiled at her as best he could. "No. It's okay. If I alarmed you, I am sorry. I was not accusing you of invading my mind. I was just warning you not to try to enter in order to assist. You would have been hurt."

"Someone entered your mind against your will?"

Prazak shook his head. "Not against my will. Just...without warning."

Deanna frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."

Prazak cocked his head and took her hand. "It's complicated."

Deanna seemed to accept that. She nodded. Prazak set her hand back down on her thigh.

She stood. "Are you certain you're okay?"

Prazak nodded once in response.

"Perhaps rest is what you need, Andrej. Thank you for the offer of dinner, but I really should be getting back to my team. You were correct that Commander Riker did not want me to come here alone, so he will be worried."

"If my question offended you.." Prazak stammered. "Or my outburst. Again, it was not meant as an accusation."

Deanna smiled. "Of course not, Andrej. In fact, I would love to have dinner with you. Just right now you should rest and I should return to my team."

Prazak nodded. "Perhaps tomorrow."

"I'd like that very much," Deanna remarked. Turning she stepped back to the door.

Prazak followed. His hand hovered over the door release. "Again, if I offended or upset you, Deanna, I am sorry."

She shook her head. "You didn't." Then she glanced up at him. "I hope whatever that was...whatever assaulted your mind...that you recover from it as swiftly as the wound on your torso."

Prazak smiled. "I'll be fine. But, I would appreciate it if you kept this meeting between us. Especially what just happened."

"I'd prefer that as well," Deanna said.

Prazak nodded. "Thank you."

"Good evening, Andrej." Troi stepped through the door.

"Good evening, Deanna," he replied.

He watched her depart. He didn't tear his eyes away until she turned at the far end of the corridor and disappeared.

When he was alone, Prazak moved swiftly through his quarters in order to change his clothing and don his armor and weapons.

He had a summons to answer.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Please enjoy.**

* * *

Picard glanced at the remainder of his senior staff that was assembled in the _Enterprise's_ observation lounge. Lieutenant Commander Data, Doctor Beverly Crusher, and Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge were seated at the sleek table, all their chairs canted to face their Captain.

With Riker, Troi, and Worf still on the planet below, as well as Lieutenant Sandy, Picard had to come to decision as how to proceed in order to ensure the safety of his officers.

Picard got the meeting underway. "What do we know, Mister Data?"

With a slight nod, Data tapped at the console in front of him. The picture of Andrej Prazak that Riker had sent along with the rest of the data appeared on the screen on the wall. Picard focused his attention to the screen at the end of the conference table.

He could see why his first officer was concerned about their host. Prazak was nothing short of physically remarkable. Standing bare-chested in snow and mud, he held a magnificent longsword in his right hand. Specks of mud splattered his arms and chest and the side of his torso was bleeding. His face was expressionless.

"This is the guy that our away team is with?" La Forge exclaimed.

"Yes, Geordi," Data replied. "According to Commander Riker's report, this man, General Andrej Prazak led a group of his soldiers in the rescue of the away team. They were then escorted back to the capital city where they currently remain. Lieutenant Sandy captured this image of the General while he was sparring with Lieutenant Worf."

Data paused briefly, but Picard nodded for to continue.

"Worf struck that blow to the General and as a result the away team was able to obtain a sample of the man's blood."

Doctor Crusher spoke next, "It's difficult to tell how severe the man's wound is just from the picture, but if I were to guess I'd say it was significant. Yet the report stated he shrugged it off. Based on the biometric scans from the tricorder and his blood, I have determined that Andrej Prazak is indeed human. Commander Riker assumes the other two men that accompany Prazak, General Herschel and Colonel Marking, are also human, however I cannot confirm this without scans or blood samples."

"There are no human colonies anywhere in this sector," Picard stated. "How did they get here? Are they from the lost shuttlecraft? From Starfleet?"

Crusher shook her head. "I ran Prazak's sample through the medical database that catalogues the DNA of Starfleet personnel. He is not from Starfleet." Crusher tapped her fingers on the table. "What I did find strange about the sample was how perfect it was."

"Explain," Picard stated.

"No traces of imperfections at all. No sequencing codes that could indicate susceptibility to hereditary diseases or illnesses. It's like he's perfect. The only exception being traces of a foreign substance that I have not yet been able to identify."

Data picked up where Crusher stopped. "Sir, based on Doctor Crusher's findings and the lack of any Starfleet record on this man, I broadened my parameters to search outside of normal Starfleet records."

"And you found something," Picard concluded.

"I did." Data nodded.

Geordi perked up. "Well, what is it? Who is he?"

"I will admit that I am a bit perplexed by the information I uncovered." Data tapped on his console again. A moment later another image popped up on the screen to the right of the current one. "According to historical records the man on the right is also Andrej Prazak."

Picard blinked. The two men were almost identical, sans the facial scruff Prazak currently sported. If Picard had to point out a difference, he would say Prazak appeared younger in the new image, but no more than ten or fifteen years at the most.

The new picture showed Prazak dressed in a twentieth century era suit and tie. Whoever had take the photo had captured the man mid-stride looking off to the side and somewhat over his shoulder. The scenery behind him was blurred, but what Picard could make out reminded him of the old world architecture of Earth's European continent.

Prazak had one hand on the knot of his tie as if adjusting it and the other held a handgun. Picard was unfamiliar with the different models of twentieth century firearms, but he did recognize that the pistol had what was commonly known as a sound suppressor, or silencer, attached to the end.

Data went on. "According to the information I found, Andrej Prazak is Czechoslovakian. He was born in the latter half of the twentieth century. Early records indicate he served as an officer in an elite Czechoslovakian Special Forces unit. I found no records of his activities after 1994, with the exception of the image on display."

"This is impossible." Picard was shaking his head. "This cannot be the same man. As a human he'd be long since dead. A descendant perhaps?"

Data tilted his head. "There is more, Captain. The more I searched, the more I uncovered. While I agree that it is far-fetched that these men are one in the same, our facial recognition program concluded with ninety-nine point two percent accuracy that the images are of the same person. I traced Prazak's family lineage and discovered that his mother was part of an experimental and secret program that took place in the 1960s and 1970s."

"Mister Data, are you suggesting…" Picard started.

"Yes, Sir. Andrej Prazak is an augment. He was born of the eugenics project that also produced the infamous Khan Noonien Singh. My hypothesis is that Prazak had some role to play in the Eugenic Wars, but what that role was is still unknown."

"That would explain his blood sample." Crusher was shaking her head, worry etched into her features. "And probably his ability to sustain injuries that would otherwise be life threatening."

La Forge whistled. "What in the world have we stumbled upon? Another Khan? Another fugitive? And how the hell is he still alive?"

Data looked at the chief engineer. "While it is unknown how Prazak has survived all this time, I would suspect the answer lies somewhere on the planet below."

Picard returned to the pictures on the screen. He nodded at both in turn. "The picture from Earth disturbs me. Look at his facial expression."

"Cold, detached," Crusher breathed softly.

Picard nodded. "Add that to the firearm he's carrying…men that carried silenced handguns were generally assassins. Killers. This man, this Andrej Prazak, is clearly dangerous. We need to get this information to Commander Riker."

"Captain," Data stated. "In my search a number of familiar names came up. Gary Seven and Roberta Lincoln for example."

Picard had heard those names before. "Mysterious time travelers that intervened in many cultures throughout the universe. To include Earth. It's quite possible they had a role to play in the Eugenics Wars as well."

"Yes, Captain. But also another. One that you can actually speak with."

Picard looked down at the console before him and nodded.

* * *

Frowning, Riker watched as Deanna entered the common room. Head held high, she walked with confidence towards the room she'd been sleeping in. She completely ignored Will.

Hoping to his feet, Riker strode towards the counselor, stopping her before she could enter her room. "Where have you been, Counselor?"

Riker was well aware that Worf and Sandy were watching the interaction.

She moved to open the door. "I went for a walk."

"I gave specific orders that no one should be alone."

"I wasn't alone," Deanna stated. "A soldier escorted me."

Riker's lips curled downward. Deanna pushed the button on the panel and the door opened. She stepped inside. Riker followed. He didn't care if she didn't invite him.

When the door slid closed, Deanna turned to face him. Her expression was dark. Angry. Angry at Will for following. "I did not invite you in here, Will."

Riker crossed his arms over his chest. "What's going on, Deanna? Where did you go? You went to see Prazak, didn't you?"

"I suggested earlier that I speak with him. You never said I couldn't."

Riker shook his head. "You know damn well I didn't want you seeing that man on your own."

"Why?" Deanna asked. "Jealous?"

Riker huffed a surprised laugh. "Jealous? Seriously, Deanna? This isn't about jealousy, it's about safety. Not only your safety but that of this entire away team."

"You're afraid of the man, I get that-" Deanna started.

Riker's eyes narrowed. "That's not it, Deanna."

Deanna continued to stare back, her eyes locked on his. Troi was always strong-willed, it was one of the things Riker found attractive about her, but in this case, he truly felt she was being guided more by infatuation than reason.

But he also knew that arguing wouldn't get them anywhere. He uncrossed his arms, letting his hands hang at his sides. "Did you manage to learn anything from him?"

She held his stare for a few more moments before her features softened. It appeared Troi wasn't prepared for an argument either. "A number of things actually."

"Such as?" Riker prodded.

"When I first arrived at his quarters-"

"You went to his quarters?" Riker interrupted.

Troi sighed heavily.

Riker shook his head. "Sorry. That just…caught me by surprise. I guess I assumed you saw him in a more public setting."

Deanna continued without acknowledging Will's statement. "When I arrived I walked in on him unexpectedly. I guess he opened the door, however he did it, thinking I was either General Herschel of Colonel Marking. Prazak had just injected himself with something."

One of Riker's eyebrows rose. "What?"

Deanna shook her head. "I'm not sure. All I saw was the syringe on the floor, a bottle of blue liquid and Prazak seated in a chair with his body spread across a table. He was clearly in pain. When he saw it was me at the door he became enraged, but then relaxed. Dismissing what he was doing as administering medication for his battle wound."

"But you didn't believe him?"

Deanna shrugged. "I was so surprised that I wasn't really searching his emotions. I cannot say for certain if he was telling the truth or not."

Riker catalogued the information. "What else?"

"We talked for some time. He opened up to a certain degree. He admitted to being a telepath as well as not being a native to this planet. He said he did not arrive on the shuttlecraft. I believe he was telling the truth. He knew I was wanting to know if he was human before I even asked."

"You think he detected the tricorder scans?"

"I don't know," Deanna replied. "He made no mention of it. It might be more because of what you said to him back in the conference room. Either way, when I pointed out that humans aren't telepathic he deflected and gave an ambiguous reply."

"Interesting." Riker stroked his beard a little.

"He explained a bit about this war they are fighting and why. It's a noble cause, Will."

"If he's telling the truth that is."

"I believed him. Anyway, just before I left he was suddenly overcome with intense pain. It actually frightened me."

"What type of pain?"

"In his head," Deanna answered.

"Could he have been faking it?"

Deanna shook her head. She sat down on the edge of the small bed. "No. It was real. I felt the residuals that bled off of him. Someone was attempting to enter his mind telepathically. Who and why, I don't know. He didn't say. But it was clear the intrusion caused him significant physical pain. I've seen similar things before in other telepaths. Usually it caused by lack of training or discipline. The one attempting contact might not even realize they are hurting the other. He said the intrusion was not unwanted, just unexpected at that moment. He knows who it was, he just wouldn't tell me."

A knock on the door interrupted to conversation. Deanna stood as Riker turned and hit the button to open the door.

Sandy and Worf stood on the other side.

Sandy held up the tricorder. "Sir, data from the _Enterprise_. They uncovered Prazak's true identity. I think our situation just got a whole lot worse."

* * *

Picard rubbed his eyes. After dismissing his officers, he'd adjourned to ready room and spent the last two hours reading and rereading the files currently displayed on the screen before him.

Starfleet Directive 715-2.

United Federation of Planets File 3B-82X.

Both marked: For Captain's Eyes Only

The documents were the source of Picard's current dilemma. Each laid out directives and actions to be taken in the event that a Starfleet vessel or personnel encountered any augments or their direct descendants. The short of it was that Picard's primary mission had suddenly changed upon learning of the existence of the augment Andrej Prazak. According to the directives, Picard was now responsible for arresting the augments and returning them to Earth to face a war crimes tribunal.

Picard stood, heading to the replicator.

"Tea. Earl Grey. Hot."

When his drink materialized he returned to his desk and set the saucer down.

His orders were clear enough. There was no question as to what he had to do. Yet it still bothered him. On one hand, these men could be war criminals, murderers. On the other, they'd lived so long away from Earth, what good would be accomplished by arresting them.

"But they did flee," Picard said out loud. "Why flee if you're innocent? And what of the lost shuttlecraft? Were these men picked up in space in a similar fashion to Khan and his crew? Did Prazak commandeer the craft? Or was Prazak's location known to the Federation and a ship had been sent to retrieve him?"

He dismissed the last thought. If that had happened there would be a record. And currently no connections had been made between the augments and the missing craft other than occupying the same planet.

"What are we missing?" Picard took a sip of his tea. "Is the missing craft indeed a completely separate issue? It just happened to crash on the same planet these men decided to call home? A pure coincidence?"

He wouldn't know that for sure until they found the missing shuttlecraft. Or until he met face to face with Prazak.

However, there was one task Picard had to do. Entering the proper codes, he opened his logs. With a sigh, he began to transcribe his subspace message to Starfleet Command.

* * *

He ignored the knock at his door.

Head cradled in his hands, elbows propped on the edge of his desk, Andrej tried to focus on the documents strewn before him.

But he wasn't really seeing them. The dull throb in his head wouldn't leave. It never really did, at least not until a day or so later. As much as the summonings pained him, the follow ups were far worse.

The knock persisted.

With a sigh, he looked up. Herschel stood in his doorway. When Prazak looked at him, he came forward, the door shutting behind him.

"How are you, brother?" Herschel asked as he took a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of Prazak's elegant workspace.

"How do I look?" Prazak laughed. Even that hurt.

"Like hell," Herschel remarked. "I don't see how you do it, Andrej."

"It's for the greater good." Prazak leaned back. "And eventually, with time, it won't be as painful. As strenuous."

Herschel nodded. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but-"

He held out a datapad over the desk. Prazak shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them to take the pad. Reading it didn't help his headache. When he finished he set the pad down. "You were right. I was a fool. And I've been paying for it ever since."

"No one faults you for saving them, Andrej," Herschel offered. "But we should have just sent them on their way after that."

"My intentions were good," Prazak said in his own defense.

"And we both know what the road to hell is paved with, don't we?" Herschel smirked. He nodded at the pad. "Captain Picard has requested to meet in person. He doesn't know that we intercepted this data sent between his away team and his ship. We still have the upper hand, Andrej."

Prazak slammed a fist on the desk. "I don't see why they think we had anything to do with their blasted shuttlecraft!"

Herschel kept his composure, as he always did. "They know who we are. Of course they think we had something to do with it. My guess, Andrej, they assume we are murderers and criminals. Just like Khan."

Prazak sneered at the mention of that name. "I don't care who this Captain is. If he dares to compare us to that murderous egomaniac, he'll regret it. Even if it starts a damn war with their Federation."

Herschel steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. "What do you propose? We can always deny them entry to the facility. Send the others back in their craft."

Prazak shook his head. "It's too late for that. No. We'll meet with Picard and see what he has to say. We'll figure out the rest from there."

Herschel nodded in agreement.

Prazak was ready to change the subject. "What of Marking's patrol?"

"They should return by morning," Herschel stated. Then he added, "I heard you met with the Betazoid woman."

Prazak huffed a short laugh. "She came to see me."

"Uh huh." Herschel stood up. "She's quite beautiful."

Prazak smiled at his longtime friend, all thoughts of their current predicament, memories of Khan, and his painful telepathic session suddenly forgotten. Replaced with thoughts of the starship counselor at the mere mention of her. "She is."

Herschel cocked his head before heading for the door. When he reached it he turned back around. "Don't let Sa find out."

Prazak grinned as he stood. "My relationship with Lady Sa is one of pure convenience."

Herschel laughed. "I don't think I've ever heard it put like that. Somehow I don't think Sa shares your opinion. She's dug her claws into you. Figuratively and literally. She's tenacious."

Prazak joined his friend at the door. "How would you know? You don't mingle with the nobility."

"That's your job, old friend. And just because I don't mingle doesn't mean I don't know what they are like. I am the head of Army Intelligence after all." He inclined his head towards the door. "I think a few drinks will do you some good, Andrej."

Prazak debated going with his friend. He needed to figure out the next move. Develop a plan. Prepare for the worst.

He shook his head. "I think I'll go for a walk. Clear my head. Check on the soldiers on the wall. Perhaps I'll join you later."

Herschel placed a hand on Prazak's shoulder. "Don't worry, Andrej. We'll fight if we must. To the end if necessary."

The side of Prazak's lips curled upward. "Agreed. To the end."

* * *

PADD in hand, Picard waited for a response. When the door swished open, he stepped inside. The lighting was low, as usual, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the change.

Guinan was waiting for him. "Captain, to what do I owe this visit?"

The El-Aurian woman was dressed in her usual attire and had the same soft smile upon her face that greeted the patrons of Ten Forward on a daily basis. However, the woman's relaxed demeanor did little to settle Picard's thoughts.

"Guinan, I am sorry for intruding so late," Picard said.

Guinan's smile broadened a tad. "No intrusion at all, Captain. Please, come in. Have a seat. Would you like a tea?"

Picard shook his head as he sat. "No. Thank you."

Guinan nodded and sat across from him.

Picard exhaled and handed the PADD over to the woman. On it was the picture of Prazak from the twentieth century. "Guinan, do you know that man?"

Her eyes flickered ever so briefly as she examined the device. What she did next was not what Picard was expecting at all. Guinan's fingers brushed over the image in a manner that suggested some sort of close or even intimate knowledge of the man in question.

After a few moments, Guinan looked up at the Captain. "Yes. I knew him. His name was Prazak. Andrej Prazak."

"What can you tell me about him, Guinan? We already know he's an augment, but little else is known about him."

Guinan came from a race of listeners. Picard's choice of words did not get by her. "You speak of him in the present tense, Captain. Why?"

Picard shifted in his seat to sit up a little straighter. He motioned at the PADD. Guinan tapped it and the image changed to the one of Prazak taken by the away team. "We believe he is alive."

Picard knew there wasn't much that could surprise Guinan, but that revelation did. Her eyes went wide. She looked between the image on the PADD and Picard.

Then she chuckled. "I really shouldn't be surprised."

Picard swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"Andrej was always resourceful. It shouldn't surprise me that he found a way to survive." She looked down at the image again. "And not only survive, but stop himself from aging. He doesn't look to have aged more than ten years between these images."

Picard nodded. "What do you know of him, Guinan? Right now my away team is with this man and I need to know if he's dangerous. I fear he could be responsible for murdering the crew of the missing shuttlecraft we are looking for in order to keep his identity and location secret."

Guinan shook her head and set the PADD on the table between them. "Andrej was…excuse me, is a lot of things, Captain, but he's not a murderer."

Over the years, Picard had learned to trust Guinan's words and advice. She was his friend and a trusted confident he could rely upon. But right now he needed to know more. "Tell me what you know about him."

Guinan leaned back. Picard observed the way her eyes seemed to cloud over, looking into the past. A past she probably hadn't thought about in a very long time. Then her eyes focused and she looked straight into his own eyes. "The Andrej Prazak I knew was an extremely complicated man. A troubled soul if you will. You are correct, Jean-Luc, he was born of the eugenics program. He grew up in a very turbulent period of Earth's history."

"What happened to him?"

Guinan sighed. "I'll tell you what I know, but I don't know how much it can help you. I was on Earth for a time during the eugenics wars. I was working with a man named Gary Seven. Our ultimate objective was to stop Khan Noonien Singh's quest for global destruction and domination."

Picard nodded. "Everyone knows about Khan and I have heard of Gary Seven."

"Seven saw Khan's potential at an early age, however he was mistaken in his belief that Khan could be a force for good. A force that could band Earth's nations together. Khan believed himself superior to the rest of Earth's inhabitants. He did want to bring Earth together, but under his rule. By the time Seven realized Khan's goals it was already too late. Khan knew his biggest threats were his fellow super humans. So he attempted to bring them together under him. But just like Khan, most of the eugenics children had grown up to become egotistical and self-centered madmen and women. The eugenics wars started because of this. Innocent people were caught in the cross-fire of the embattled augments and Seven knew it had to be stopped before more innocent people lost their lives. He started searching for the remaining augments and began building a covert force to remove Khan from power."

"Prazak's role? He fought with Khan?"

Guinan shook her head. "No. A number of the augments wanted nothing to do with Khan or the war. They simply wanted to be left alone to live their lives as they saw fit. Prazak was one of those."

Picard couldn't help but laugh. "Prazak doesn't seem like the type of man that would balk from combat."

"He didn't balk. Not really. He was more…indifferent to the war. He didn't care." Guinan smiled. "It wasn't until Khan wronged Prazak that Andrej became involved."

Picard found himself getting sucked into the tale. "How so?"

Guinan shook her head. "I don't know all the details. Neither Seven or Prazak shared them with me. What I do know is that Seven attempted to recruit Prazak to fight against Khan. Prazak refused. Then Khan approached Prazak. Again, Prazak refused."

"So how did he become involved? How did he go from being a man wanting to sit on the sidelines to that man in the photograph? Carrying a handgun and looking like he just committed murder." Picard nodded at the PADD.

"Like I said, Captain, Prazak's not a murderer. He was a soldier." She must have seen the doubt on his face. "You have to understand how things were back then. It wasn't like Earth today. If anyone was truly a murderer it was Khan. When Prazak refused Khan, Khan tried to kill him. Shot him in the back as I understand it."

Picard whistled. "History tells us a different story about Khan."

"History can be wrong, Jean-Luc." Guinan smiled a little. She picked the PADD back up and returned the image to the one of Prazak from Earth. Again, Picard noted the look of affection on her face.

"So when Khan tried to kill him, Prazak joined your side?"

Guinan shook her head. "No. Seven kept tabs on Prazak, even after his refusal to join the cause. Therefore, he knew of the meeting between Khan and Prazak but he arrived too late. He found Andrej lying face down in a back alley in Western Berlin. He was able to save Prazak's life and while Andrej was grateful he still wanted nothing to do with the war. Prazak planned to return to his home in Czechoslovakia. When Khan learned that Prazak survived he became enraged. He ordered Prazak's entire family killed. Andrej joined us after that."

Picard didn't know what to say.

A sad look spread across Guinan's face. "I don't know what happened. Of what Khan and his followers actually did. All I know is that it was vicious. Sadistic. While Andrej never said, I believe one of the reasons he did not want to join in the war was because of his family. He had a wife and two young children. A girl and a boy. Khan and his followers murdered them, as well as Prazak's mother and grandmother."

Picard's chest was tight and he had to force himself to breathe. None of this was what he had expected to hear when he'd decided to seek out Guinan for her knowledge.

"Prazak joined the cause after that." Guinan gestured at the PADD. "He was a natural leader that rallied others, both augments and commoners as they called them, together to stop Khan. But deep down he was driven by rage. Anger. This picture. I know it. Besides the regular fighting, Prazak had vowed to avenge his murdered family. To personally make those that carried out Khan's orders pay for their crimes. With the help of two of his closest friends, Prazak tracked the killers down one by one. You can guess what happened just before this picture was taken."

"His friends? Other augments? Men named Herschel and Marking?"

"I assume they are alive as well?"

Picard nodded.

"Again, I'm not surprised. They are augments, Captain. Wilhelm Herschel was a German intelligence officer for West Germany's office of foreign intelligence services. John Marking, an American, worked for the Central Intelligence Agency. Neither man had revealed his true identity to the organizations he worked for. Yet Seven found them and brought them into the cause. Their access to highly classified information was vital to ending the war faster than expected. When Prazak joined us he bonded with those two almost immediately. Seven had mentioned that all three had been together at the Eugenic Project's secret lab, but because they were so young they didn't remember each other. Herschel and Marking fed information to Prazak on the locations of the men that killed his family. Prazak took care of the rest."

"But what right did Prazak have to take the law into his own hands? To become a vigilante? An assassin?" Picard questioned.

Guinan laughed a little then shook her head. "What law should Andrej have relied upon? Found faith in? Times were different back then, Jean-Luc. Very different."

"Does that justify his actions?" Picard countered.

"You may see it as murder, but Prazak didn't. And honestly, Captain, neither do I. Khan and his followers killed innocent people, including Prazak's family. His children. Khan thought he could break Prazak's spirit by destroying everything and everyone he loved. What Khan did was create his greatest enemy. You may not agree with Prazak's methods, but he did what he thought was right at the time. And unlike Khan, no innocents died by Prazak's hands. The only reason Andrej never got to Khan and those closest to him was because Khan escaped and fled Earth in secret. When the fighting was over, Andrej set down his weapons."

Picard assimilated the information. What Guinan was telling him helped paint a picture of the man down on the surface, yet it didn't assist Picard is making his ultimate decision. In fact, it complicated the matter even more.

"Do you know how Prazak and the others came to be on the planet below? Or how they've survived all these years without aging?" Picard asked next.

Guinan frowned. "No. I left Earth not long after the war ended. I thought those that fought with Seven had returned to their lives before the war. Something must have happened that drove them away. The only people that can answer your questions, Captain, are those three men down on the planet."

Picard rose. He picked up the PADD. "Thank you, Guinan. I'm sorry to have taken you back to a place that clearly is a sensitive subject to you, but I had to know just what type of man I'm dealing with. You're information has been helpful."

Guinan stood too. "I don't think that is the case, Captain. You appear more conflicted than when you walked in here."

Picard lowered his head and smiled a little. "You're right."

"Captain, let me offer you some advice. Everything I've told you is what I know of Prazak. I also know he is extremely loyal to those closest to him. Whatever you plan to do, be prepared for resistance. You said at the beginning you needed to know if Prazak is dangerous."

Picard looked into her eyes. "Yes?"

Guinan's jaw was set. "I would answer yes, Captain. Andrej Prazak is dangerous. Dangerous to his enemies. If you corner him, if he perceives you to be an enemy, he will attack. You have to ask yourself, Jean-Luc, is it worth it?"

"That is a question I still have yet to answer." Picard smiled wearily. He stepped to the door.

"Do you plan to meet with him, Jean-Luc?" Guinan asked as she followed him to the exit.

"I don't think I have any choice. While I don't believe he's holding our people as prisoners or hostages, I still need to know why he is unwilling to help locate our lost shuttlecraft."

"I'd like to go with you," Guinan said.

Picard blinked. "I'm not sure that is wise. You said it yourself, Guinan, he's dangerous."

Her smile returned, stretching across her face. "I said he was dangerous to his enemies. I am not Prazak's enemy. It might do some good for him to see a familiar face that is aligned with Starfleet. To alleviate his concerns."

Picard had to know. "How close were you to Prazak?"

Guinan lowered her head and chuckled. When she looked back up at him she was grinning. "Are you asking if he and I were lovers?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Picard stammered.

"Prazak was consumed with his quest for revenge. He loved his family. He was not interested in me. Not because I think he found me unattractive, but because he was still grieving from his lose. Prazak and I never shared a bed, but if he had needed that from me…well…let's just say I was more than willing."

Picard grinned. "Now, Guinan-"

She laughed. "Hey, he's a handsome man. Don't fault me for who I'm attracted to."

Picard nodded again. "Thank you, Guinan. Let me meet with him first. I need to make my own assessment prior to bringing you with me."

"I understand, Jean-Luc. Can I ask a favor?"

"Of course," Picard replied.

"Don't tell him about me." Guinan wore that smile that Picard knew so well. "If I can meet with him I'd prefer it to be a surprise."

With a nod, Picard couldn't help but wonder some more about the relationship between Guinan, Prazak, and the other augments. "That I can do."

"I'll be waiting, Captain."

Picard activated the doors and stepped through once they'd swished open. "I'll let you know. Again, thank you. You've been a tremendous help."

* * *

His leg muscles burned. But it was a good burn. He could have taken the lift that would transport him directly to the top of the wall, but Prazak preferred the stairs. The pump kept him going. Reminded him of his purpose. Of why he continued day in and day out.

Zoja kept pace with him the enter time. She was huffing slightly, but not enough for concern. Davnora cats lived in the Huron Mountains; their bodies built for harsh climates and steep climbs. While Zoja had spent most of her life with Prazak, he had no doubt the cat could keep up with her mountain dwelling brethren.

At the top, he patted the cat on the head. "Good work."

Zoja huffed and nipped at his hand.

The moon shone bright in the sky over the city, illuminating the planet below in a silvery glow. Snow continued to fall, but it was not as heavy as during the day. The wind was always stronger on top of the wall. Rolling his shoulders, Prazak brushed a hand through his hair that was dampened with both sweat and snow. He debated pulling the hood up from his cloak, but immediately dismissed the idea. He was used to the cold. In fact, he'd come to love it. He couldn't imagine how his body would react if he was suddenly thrust into a warmer climate.

"Probably kill me faster than a Ti'hi battle axe," he mused.

Zoja grumbled in response.

He smiled at his companion as they walked along the wall. Soldiers quietly manned their positions, watching the white plains below that seemed to stretch on forever. The stations closer to the mountain ranges used observation tools to scan the mountains for any suspicious activity.

Tonight all was quiet.

In addition to the stationary soldiers, walking patrols also manned the wall. As Prazak continued his journey, he came across the two soldier teams from time to time. When they saw him they nodded in recognition, greeted him with a hushed "General" or "Sir" then carried on. No soldiers would salute him on the wall. It was against protocol.

Prazak took his time. He always found his walks along the wall peaceful; tranquil. Even with the constant threat from the outside, there was something about the security the wall provided that set his mind at ease.

At the next station, Prazak stopped. A young soldier peered out into the darkness, watching the wood line to the south of the plains. His head moved from side to side and Prazak could see the tuffs of chilled breath pass the young soldier's lips every time he breathed.

Prazak stepped closer to the young man. "You're doing well, but never forget to listen for sounds from all angles."

The soldier's head wiped around. His eyes went wide and he stood a little more erect when recognition struck. "General...I..."

Prazak smiled and held up a hand. "Relax, young man. But remember, you may be on the wall now, focusing your efforts out there," He gestured towards the plains, "but when you are down there fighting you have to be aware of all that is happening around you."

The soldier nodded slowly. He lowered his eyes for a moment as if ashamed. "I've never fought a Ti'hi."

Prazak cocked his head. "What's your name?"

The soldier looked back up. Again, he stood a little straighter. "Timor."

"Timor," Prazak repeated. "How long have you been a soldier?"

"This is my first year, Sir," Timor answered.

Prazak turned to face the plains. Timor did as well. "I want to fight, General."

Prazak looked to the man. "Why?"

"My father and sister were soldiers. My father works in the mechanics shop now. He maintains your fleet. My sister...she died fighting the Ti'hi."

"You wish to do your part as well? To honor them?"

Timor nodded. "To keep Sardis safe."

Prazak placed a hand on Timor's shoulder. "Have you found your sister's name on the wall?"

Timor shook his head. "I've tried. But there are so many names."

"Yes." Prazak frowned. "If you go to the tower archives you can find her name's location on the wall."

Timor's eyes went back to the landscape. "I wished to find it on my own, but maybe I should go to the archives."

Prazak didn't answer him. They were quiet for some time until Prazak pointed towards the wood line. "What do you see?"

Timor looked briefly at the General then in the direction Prazak was pointing. Prazak watched Timor's eyes narrow. Then the young man frowned. "Nothing."

"Look harder," Prazak stated. "To the right of the leaning tree."

Timor repeated his actions. He nodded a little. "I see...something...movement."

Prazak waited. Minutes ticked by before three small figures emerged from the forest. Timor inhaled. "How did you see them?"

"You will learn to recognize the movements and behaviors of different creatures." He pointed at the trio near the forest. "A mother Fernt deer and her fawns. They move at night to avoid predators. Predators that include the Ti'hi."

Zoja growled. She must have caught the scent of the deer on the wind.

Prazak chuckled. "And Davnora cats."

With a pat on Timor's shoulder, Prazak stepped back. "Take the time to learn what creatures share our planet, Timor. Not just the Ti'hi. It will make you a more effective soldier."

"Yes, General," Timor replied.

Prazak saw a slight hesitation in the soldier. "What is it?"

TImor's eyes wandered to Prazak's longsword. "Is it true, General?"

Prazak smirked. "Is what true, soldier?"

"How you came to carry the Warrior Ruler's sword?"

Prazak placed a hand on the grip. "Tell me what you've heard."

Timor's eyes lingered on the magnificent blade's pommel for a moment before looking back at Prazak's face. The young man swallowed a few times before answering. "They say you killed the Ti'hi that ambushed the Warrior Ruler at Tega Peak. That you were outnumbered three to one. When the Warrior Ruler fell, mortally wounded by the Ti'hi chieftain's war hammer, you picked up the Warrior Ruler's sword, rallied our soldiers and slew the rest of the Ti'hi. They say you saved the Kindly One's life. They say the Kindly One presented you with his father's sword for what you did that day on Tega Peak."

Prazak listened the to the story with interest. "Where did you hear all this?"

Timor shrugged sheepishly. "Around. In the barracks. Over drinks in the pubs."

"What else did you hear about that battle?" Prazak wanted to know.

Timor smiled a little. "That with the Warrior Ruler's sword in hand you severed the chieftain's head in one blow. A chieftain that was over twice your size. In all, you killed twenty Ti'hi single-handedly that day."

Prazak took a step back and patted the side of his leg, calling Zoja back to his side. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear over drinks, Timor."

Timor's face fell, clearly disappointed.

Prazak cleared this throat, drawing the young man's gaze back to him. With a grin Prazak said, "The number was closer to forty."

Timor's face brightened. A wide grin splashed across his face before he regained his composure.

Prazak pointed towards the plains. When Timor nodded, Prazak turned to head back. He had a feeling that the moment Timor's duty ended the young soldier would be recounting his encounter with Prazak to his fellow soldiers.

Prazak smirked and shook his head _. Next time I hear that story they'll be saying I defeated hordes of Ti'hi with my bare hands._

* * *

 **To Be Continued…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I hope you continue to enjoy! Thank you for reading!**

* * *

The shuttlecraft broke through the cloud cover, a dark spec growing larger and more ominous each second it drew closer to the city.

Prazak's gaze followed its trajectory.

The inevitable had arrived.

With a sigh, he forced himself to turn away. There was no snow this morning, but he didn't mind.

With a slight bow of his head, he stated, "It is time."

When his companion nodded in return, Prazak spun on his heel and strode from the Imperial Gardens with his head held high.

He knew what he had to do.

* * *

Coming in at the exact coordinates he'd been provided, Captain Picard set the shuttlecraft down on the planet's surface. While the craft powered down, he turned to his co-pilot. "Ready?"

Doctor Crusher nodded. "Yep."

Picard would have preferred to bring Lt. Commander Data. Data's android strength would have been no match for the likes of Prazak and his fellow augments, however he had been forced to make the tactical decision to leave Data in command of the _Enterprise._

He was hoping that Prazak would be as reasonable a man as Guinan had made him out to be. And while Commander Riker's reports had been concerning, his First Officer admitted that neither Prazak nor anyone else within Sardis had shown any outward hostility towards the away team. Weariness, apprehension, suspicion; yes. But not hositility. By all accounts Riker and his team had been treated with fairness and courtesy during their stay, even if they had been kept separate from their shuttlecraft.

Stepping out of the craft's hatch, Picard shrugged against the cold.

Beverly, right at his side, shivered. "Wow, they weren't kidding about this weather."

Picard smirked then turned his attention to the approaching group. His away team. It felt like ages had passed since he'd last seen them.

"Captain," Riker stated in his usual formal manner.

"Number One." Picard smiled a little. He nodded to the other officers in turn. "Perhaps we can move inside?"

Riker gestured to a small entourage of soldiers that stood stoically off to the side. "Our escorts."

Picard huffed. "Where is General Prazak?"

"I have no idea." Riker sighed. "The man is like a ghost at times."

"In more ways than one, Will," Picard remarked.

"I'm sure the General will meet us inside," Counselor Troi assured.

Picard nodded. "It actually works in our favor. We have some things to discuss before I meet him."

The assembled group fell in step with the soldiers. Led to a break in the wall, they were ushered through the portal and into a large lift. Picard took the time to assemble his thoughts. Review his plan of action. As the conveyance descended, Doctor Crusher initiated medical scans on each member of the away team, concentrating the most on Commander Riker.

"I'm fine, Doctor," Riker insisted. "I'm used to taking a few hits every now and again."

"It's my job to make sure," Crusher replied while studying the medical tricorder readings. "You could have suffered internal injuries. And I'd rather make my own assessment and provide care versus whatever our hosts were able to do."

From the corner of his eye, Picard saw the two soldiers at the front of the lift turn their helmet clad heads slightly towards each other.

 _They understand us._

Picard cleared his throat. "I'm sure whatever medical care our hosts provided was the best they had to offer."

Crusher seemed to get the hint. She nodded once then returned to her tricorder. "The worst of your injuries, Commander, appears to be a slightly bruised larynx. Have you been able to eat and drink?"

Riker nodded. "Yes, Doctor."

Crusher catalogued the information. "When we get a moment I'll have you fixed up as expeditiously as possible." She turned to Worf. "I heard you sustained an injury as well?"

Worf tilted his head. "I am fine, Doctor. It is nothing."

Again Picard saw the soldiers move.

Crusher attended to Word regardless of his response, but before she could make any conclusions the lift stopped and the doors opened.

The rest of the journey through the underground facility was made in silence. Eventually, they were led to a conference room. The soldiers activated the doors and stepped aside.

Picard, Crusher and the away team entered. The doors closed with the soldiers remaining outside.

"This is the same room we were brought to when we were rescued," Troi announced.

Picard studied the room. He'd been in countless rooms of similar fashion throughout the galaxy, but each time was always different. Especially when first contact was being made. On top of the large, elegant conference table was a spread of food and drinks. Apparently brought in to make the team feel welcome.

Ignoring the spread, Picard turned to his team. "You received the information that Mister Data sent, so I need your honest feedback right now. General Prazak can arrive at any moment. What is your assessment of the General and his fellow augments?"

Riker was the first to speak. "Captain, while I have to admit, we've been treated with fairness and respect, Prazak is extremely selective in the information he shares. We still have not been allowed access to our shuttlecraft and he continues to deny any knowledge of the emergency beacon."

"Do you think he honestly believes we are here for the beacon?" Picard wanted to know.

"I don't see why he wouldn't." Riker shrugged. "He claims the war is preventing him from helping us locate it. It's also the reason he gives for not allowing us out on our own to search for it."

"Perhaps he really is concerned for our well-being." Crusher pointed out.

Picard glanced towards her. "That is a possibility."

Troi spoke up. "Captain, I met with Prazak. He seemed genuine in his concern for us. But I did sense he was hiding something. Now that we know his true identity I would venture to say that is what he did not want us to know. I did not sense any maliciousness from him."

"What about the injections, Deanna?" Riker prodded.

Picard eyebrows raised a little. "Injections?"

He listened as Deanna explained what she had seen upon her arrival to the General's quarters.

"That could be the foreign substance in his blood," Crusher stated once Deanna had finished.

"It could also be the source of his prolonged life. Whatever it is, it appears to have stopped him and his friends from aging," Picard added.

"Maybe that is what he is hiding," Worf suggested. "His identity and the fact that he has discovered…what is it called on Earth?"

"The mythical fountain of youth, Mister Worf," Picard answered.

As Picard fell into thought, his officers stood by, waiting for his guidance. With a sigh, Picard looked at the group. "My orders from Starfleet are clear. I am to detain Prazak and his men and return them to Earth to face a tribunal."

Riker straightened, however Troi was the first to reply, "Why, Captain? For what purpose?"

"It seems the Federation and Starfleet are still concerned about these men and the atrocities they may have committed during the eugenics wars. It's an old regulation, put into effect after Khan's attempt to commandeer the _Enterprise_ from Admiral Kirk. But it's still a standing order and that is where my dilemma arises."

Picard didn't get the opportunity to explain further. The doors at the far end of the room opened. The team turned as one as Prazak, followed by his two friends and the large spotted feline, entered.

Dressed in military style clothing, highly polished chest armor, a great fur lined cloak and armed with two sheathed swords, Prazak was even more formidable in person than in the images Picard had seen. His dark hair was short and the stubble on his face was not what one would consider a full beard. His jawline was solid. But Picard focused on the man's eyes. His eyes would reveal his true nature. And currently Prazak's eyes were hard.

 _He has the eyes of a soldier that has seen plenty of war. Are they also the eyes of a murderer?_

Reaching the end of the table, Prazak stopped and withdrew the cylindrical device he always carried. Picard knew, from Data's research, the device was called a servo. Gary Seven had carried one as well. Prazak set it on the table and waited.

Standing tall, Picard raised his chin and greeted the man. "My name is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship _Enterprise_. I have brought along my Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Beverly Crusher."

Prazak's stare could cut through glass. He displayed no emotion and no reaction to Picard's words. "You already know my name, Captain. And the names of my officers."

Picard assimilated his words. Just how much did Prazak know? Picard nodded. "I do. First, let me personally thank you for rescuing my officers from their captors."

Prazak nodded once.

Picard inhaled deeply. "However, even in light of that information, I must inform you, General, that we have discovered who you really are. You and your two companions."

Prazak didn't flinch. "And?"

"And according to Starfleet Regulations 715-2 I am under orders to detain the three of you and return you to Earth to face a war crimes tribunal. A tribunal that will determine your innocence or guilt in regards to your actions during the eugenics wars."

Picard waited. Neither of the three augments spoke for some time. Picard watched as Prazak reached down and picked up the servo, flipping it around between his fingers. He kept his head low, but raised his eyes towards Picard. A grin spread across his stubbled face. "You're a brave man, Captain Picard. Foolish, but brave."

"Sir-" Picard started.

"You come to this planet, uninvited, and threaten us with arrest? Quite foolish." Prazak tucked the servo back into his belt. "If you truly believe I am what you think I am, what's to stop me from killing you right now and destroying your starship?"

This wasn't Picard's first stand-off. He kept his composure professional. "I've learned quite a bit about you, Andrej Prazak."

"Have you, Captain?" Prazak raised an eyebrow and smiled. It was a sinister smile.

"I have. What I don't know is why you fled Earth or how. But at this point, that does not matter. I know for a fact that you were a participant in the eugenics wars. You, as well as your two friends, Wilhelm Herschel and John Marking."

Neither of the other two men reacted to hearing their real names.

"I know you committed acts that resulted in the deaths of a number of people-" Picard started.

He was cut off by Prazak's laughter. Then the augment's voice went cold. "You think you know me, Captain? You apparently know nothing. Come out and say what you want to say, Captain. Do not tiptoe around words. Call me a murderer. That is what you believe me to be, yes? I do not deny killing, however I am no murderer. The men I killed deserved to die for their crimes. You think you know about the eugenics wars from what you read in your Starfleet records? I say you know nothing."

"That is for a tribunal to decide," Picard retorted.

Prazak stood straighter. One of his hands went to the hilt of his longsword. "A tribunal made up of those that were not alive during those times? Referencing scattered and incomplete records of a covert war? Do you realize how foolish this sounds? Your Federation dares to accuse us of crimes for which they have no proof? No witnesses? All you have is your fear, Captain. Your fear of men like us. Men like me."

Picard took a risk. "The behaviors and actions of men like you are well documented, General. Men like you and Khan-"

Prazak's open palm slammed so forcefully on the table that two mugs tipped and clattered to the ground. His other hand tightened on the hilt of his longsword and his words dripped with hate. "Do not speak that name in my presence, Picard. I shall not warn you again."

Herschel and Marking stepped forward. Both had hands on their weapons as well.

Refusing to be intimidated, Picard composed himself. "I meant no disrespect, General. However, you must understand my position. If you are innocent then you have nothing to fear."

Picard watched the cords in Prazak's neck flare with each breath. _Mentioning Khan was clearly the wrong move, but at least it confirms Guinan's story. Prazak and Khan were enemies, not allies._

"Leave this planet, Picard," Prazak growled. "You are no longer welcome here."

"My authority,-" Picard countered.

"Your authority is not recognized here, Captain Picard."

Picard blinked. It wasn't Prazak or his fellow augments that spoke. The same doors the three men had entered through had opened. The speaker approached, along with a handful of others. Picard suddenly realized he had made a mistake.

In yet another surprising move, the three augments pivoted and bowed their heads slightly at the new arrival.

Picard found himself at a loss for words. At the behavior of Prazak and his men, but more so because of the one that had spoken.

A child.

A child stood before him. The girl appeared no older than a young teenager. She was dressed in a ruby dress made of what appeared to be a very fine, albiet thick material. Intricate designs made of delicate white and green jewels adorned the tastefully cut V-shaped neckline of the dress as well as the cuffs that ended at the girl's wrists. Across her back was a white cloak with a black inner lining and fur collar. Clasps on each side connected by a silver chain secured the cloak across her shoulders. Her golden brown hair was wavy and done up in a style that allowed it to fall naturally across her shoulders and down her back. Rings adorned each of her fingers and a thin silver tiara sat atop her head.

Her features clearly showed she was not human, but similar in appearance to the others that had accompanied her into the conference room. Three soldiers in shiny purple armor and armed with swords flanked the girl. An older man wearing brown clothing and a scarlet tunic with a white rose stitched upon it stood at her side.

"Forgive me…" Picard started.

Prazak turned back to face him, taking up a position at the girl's side opposite the older man. Herschel and Marking each took a step back and returned their attention to the center of the room.

"My name is Empress Tarina, Captain," the girl said. "Ruler of Sardis and her people. Please, Captain, explain to me what authority you claim to have over General Prazak and his senior officers."

Picard's mouth had suddenly gone dry. Glancing towards Riker, his First Officer shook his head, indicating he had no knowledge of this woman. They had been operating under the presumption that Prazak was in charge.

Picard found his voice. "Under Starfleet Regul-"

"You will address the Empress as 'Your Highness'." Prazak scoffed.

Tarina raised a hand. A small and delicate hand. However, her eyes remained fixed on Picard. "Your protective nature is greatly appreciated, General, but the Captain here did not know. I forgive his unintended slight. He meant no disrespect. Correct, Captain?"

"That is correct, Your Highness." Picard bowed.

"Continue then, Captain."

Picard was not unfamiliar with first contacts and fell into the role of diplomat with ease. "Your Highness, I am bound by Starfleet Regulation 715-2 which states that it is my duty to take these men into custody and return them to Earth."

Tarina shook her head. "These men are not citizens of Earth or your Federation. They are citizens of Sardis. You have no authority to detain them or remove them from this planet against their will."

"Your Highness, they may not have told you who they really are," Riker stated.

"You insult me? Call me a liar? A deceiver? After all I've done for you?" Prazak growled at Picard's first officer.

"General, please." Tarina looked towards him. "Outbursts will get us nowhere."

Prazak bowed. "Forgive me, Your Highness."

Again, Picard was surprised at the reaction of Prazak. He truly appeared to be subservient to the Empress. A concept that was completely foreign to what he'd learned about augments.

Guinan's words echoed in his mind.

' _He's extremely loyal to those closest to him'. Did Prazak pledge his allegiance to this girl?_

Tarina spoke again. "Captain Picard, I shall not permit you to remove General Prazak, General Herschel or Colonel Marking from this planet. I would consider it an act of aggression against a sovereign planet. These men serve in my army. General Prazak is my Supreme Commander, appointed as such by my father, Dul Uthors Be-nek. And as you know, we are at war. By removing them, you would not only jeopardize their lives, but the lives of every citizen of Sardis and Huron. No, Captain, I cannot permit it. What I can do is order him to assist you in the search for your missing ship, which, as I understand it, is your stated purpose here."

"If you order it, I shall comply, Your Highness," Prazak stated with a nod of his head.

Picard shook his head. "I will have to inform Starfleet Command."

"Do what you must, Captain," Tarina replied. "But know this, Captain, we are prepared to fight. You threaten our livelihood, our very existence with this proclamation of yours."

"I understand, Your Highness." Picard frowned. He knew this was a possibility, but had hoped to avoid it. He should have known better.

"Return to your starship and contact your superiors," Tarina ordered.

Picard nodded.

Gracefully, the Empress of Sardis turned, her attendants parting way for her as she did. Prazak's glare lingered on Picard for just a moment before he spun and fell in step next to his Empress. The spotted cat, who had sat quietly throughout the entire conversation growled then pushed her way between Prazak and Tarina. As they departed, Picard saw the woman stroke the cat's head.

A moment later the Starfleet officers were alone once again.

"How the hell did we not know that Prazak wasn't in charge?" Picard grumbled, but his anger was not directed at anyone in particular.

"We had no idea she even existed," Riker stated. "From everything we saw it appeared this was a militaristic culture with Prazak in command. He even referred to himself as the Supreme Commander. We were wrong."

"Well, let's not be wrong again, Number One." Picard sighed.

"Aye, Sir." Riker bristled a little.

Picard stroked his chin. "These situations are never cut and dry. I should have known Prazak would not give in. He has no reason to and frankly he holds the upper hand. Mister La Forge and Data confirmed that the transporters cannot penetrate this planet's atmosphere without extreme risks and our weapons do not work. If Prazak does not want to leave, how can we make him?"

"Has Starfleet Command issued any new orders, Sir?" Riker asked.

Picard shook his head. "No. However, I expect an answer to my transmission soon. I need to return to the _Enterpris_ e. If Empress Tarina is willing to negotiate we might be able to come to an agreement."

"I suggest we all return to the _Enterprise_ , Captain," Crusher said. "I can examine Commander Riker and Mister Worf more extensively in sickbay."

Picard was nodding.

Worf raised his head high. "Sir, request permission to stay on the surface."

Brow furrowed, Picard eyed his security chief. "Explain."

"Prazak is now aware of our intentions. If we all to depart, he could very well go into hiding. Request permission to stay and keep him under observation."

"I'd like to stay as well, Captain," Counselor Troi requested. "I was able to get Prazak to open up a little before. He communicated telepathically to me. I think I can get him to see reason if I can speak with him again."

Picard noted the deep frown on Riker's face, yet what Troi and Worf suggested made sense. "Request granted. The rest of us will return to the _Enterprise_ and prepare for the next encounter with Tarina. Mister Worf, Counselor, if anything changes down here report immediately. If they are willing to search for the beacon, based on the Empress' statement, ensure nothing takes place until we return. Is that understood?"

When he received confirmation from both his officers, Picard sucked in a deep breath. "Now, let's see if we can figure a way out of this damn mess."

* * *

High within the castle, Empress Tarina took a seat upon her throne. "Everyone, leave us. I will speak to General Prazak alone."

No one questioned. They simply bowed and left. Even the royal guards that stood at the throne room's doors exited.

Prazak closed his eyes. He didn't open them again until he heard the last person depart. When he did open them he found the Empress staring at him.

When Tarina spoke, her voice was even. "You've let your emotions control you, General. You've made mistakes that could impact the very existence of Sardis."

"I have, Your Highness. However, my priority has always been the protection of Sardis."

"Do you regret your decision to save those Starfleet personnel from the Ti'hi?" Tarina asked.

Prazak cocked his head to the side. "No, Your Highness, I do not."

"Even if by doing so you have sealed your own fate?"

"It was the right thing to do," Prazak replied.

Tarina drummed her fingers on the arm of her throne. Prazak waited. When the Empress stood and descended the steps of the raised dais, Andrej knew what was coming.

"Kneel," she ordered.

Prazak went down to one knee without hesitation. He kept his head up and his eyes locked on hers.

"Show me these crimes you are accused of," she said.

"Your Highness, please," Prazak countered. "I have committed no crimes."

"Then show me what happened to you. I will not to harm you, Andrej," Tarina spoke gently. "My telepathic skills are improving. When I summoned you the other day, the distance was too great. I did not mean to hurt you. If you do not show me, how can I defend you?"

Prazak frowned. "I fear my memories may harm you, Your Highness. You shall see the evil my race is capable of."

"All races are capable of evil, Andrej. Just as they are all capable of good. Show me, so I can better understand."

Prazak lowered his head. "Yes, Your Highness."

When Tarina knelt and placed her hands on the sides of his head, Prazak shut his eyes and opened his mind.

* * *

Seated in his ready room, Picard played the encounter with Prazak and Tarina over and over in his mind. No matter how he viewed it, he did not see how he could possibly detain Prazak and his men. And when he thought more about it, he wasn't sure he even wanted to.

 _No. You have a duty to Starfleet. These men are dangerous. If they were ever to escape..._

His thoughts were interrupted by the alert on his terminal. He was receiving an incoming message from Starfleet Command.

With a sigh, Picard opened the transmission.

"Jean-Luc,"

Picard forced a smile. "Admiral Yamoto."

"You look well, Captain," the Admiral stated, but Picard knew it was merely a formality. "We received your initial transmission."

Picard nodded and waited.

"Captain, you are to proceed with the procedures outlines in Starfleet Regulation 715-2."

"Admiral, I fear this situation may not be as easy to resolve as we think."

"Explain, Captain." Yamoto frowned.

"Something within the planet's atmosphere prevents the use of transporters. Our weapons are also rendered useless. Andrej Prazak is the head of what appears to be an extremely well trained and disciplined army."

"Captain, have you forgotten you have a starship?"

Picard tried to not show his displeasure. "Sir, I cannot fire upon a city that is not only populated by civilians, but has shown no outward hostility towards us."

"They are harboring fugitives, Captain." Admiral Yamoto pointed out.

"Sir, I request an additional 24 hours to assess the situation on the ground," Picard replied.

Yamoto frowned then subtly looked off screen.

 _He's not alone. What's going on?_

Yamoto looked back. "Granted, Captain. But remember your standing orders. These men are to be taken into custody. If they resist, you have clearance to use force. One way or another, dead or alive, you will bring them back to Earth. Is that understood?"

Picard kept his feeling in check. He simply nodded, "Aye, Sir."

"I look forward to your next report stating you have these men in custody and are en route to Earth. Yamoto out."

When the screen returned to the Starfleet logo, Picard leaned back in his chair. His task just became more convoluted.

* * *

When her hands pulled back, severing the connection, Prazak wavered and fell forward to his hands. His entire body ached and he felt sick to his stomach. He sucked in a deep lungful of air to mitigate the physical pain. There was nothing he could do for the emotional anguish he felt.

Tarina had stood back up. When the wave finally began to subside, Prazak slowly raised his head. He found the Empress staring down at him, hers eyes shaky and wet with tears.

"I'm sorry, Andrej," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

His head bopped up and down. Beads of sweat fell from his hair.

Tarina lingered, studying him for another few heartbeats. Then she returned to her throne. Prazak watched as she slowly sat down, her form a little shaky.

"I did not mean to upset you, Your Highness," Prazak stated as he slowly pushed himself off the floor and got to his feet. His head spun, but the dizziness was beginning to pass.

Tarina's eyes drifted to him. She nodded once. "I will not permit Starfleet to take you away from Sardis, General."

Prazak frowned. "Your Highness, if they insist it could start a war."

"Unfortunately, we all too familiar with war," Tarina responded.

"We may not be able to defeat the strength of Starfleet. I shall not jeopardize the safety of Sardis just to ensure my own well being, Your Highness," Prazak countered.

Tarina smiled at his words. "And that is why I cannot permit this to happen. Your loyalty is admirable, General. You have served Sardis well. It is time for Sardis to repay you for your service and your loyalty."

Prazak stood straighter. "I await your commands, Your Highness."

"Concentrate your efforts on the Ti'hi, General. I shall deal with Captain Picard. Inform his people that I shall meet with him tomorrow. At that time I shall inform him of our position."

"Yes, Your Highness." Prazak bowed. He turned to leave, but the Empress stopped him.

"Andrej?"

She rarely used his first name. Prazak cocked his head. "Yes?"

"You are stronger than I could ever hope to be," Tarina replied kindly.

Prazak shook his head. "That is not true, Your Highness. You possess a different kind of strength than I. Your father, the Kindly One, was a beloved man that kept the Ti'hi at bay. When he passed, all of Sardis mourned him. The Ti'hi thought they could rise up against us. They saw you as weak, Your Highness. A mere child. But that was their mistake. You are not weak. You have the combined attributes of the Kindly One and the Warrior Ruler. Their strengths course through your veins. You have kept Sardis safe and prevented the Ti'hi from advancing."

"You have led the army in battle, General," Tarina countered.

Prazak shook his head. "I am merely your weapon, Your Highness. Your sword. You are the true wielder. If I were to fall, the army would still rally at your side."

"Perhaps, General. However, I need your sword." Tarina smiled. "I order you not to fall."

Prazak smirked then bowed his head. "Yes, Your Highness."

* * *

Throughout the rest of the day, Prazak found it difficult to focus. Between Picard's proclamation and his telepathic link with Empress Tarina he was exhausted. He'd been forced to relive a period of his life that he'd rather have forgotten, even if it truly defined who he was.

Prazak did not have a problem with Captain Picard, the man. Prazak knew better than most what it meant to adhere to regulations and guidance from superiors. He understood the immense responsibilities laid on the shoulders of leaders. What was at the core of his anger was Picard's seemingly unwillingness to see Andrej Prazak the man instead of Andrej Prazak the augment.

Herschel had seen Prazak's dismay and recommended he try to unwind, clear his head. At this point there was little they could do except continue on with battle preparations to fight to Ti'hi. Herschel had also suggested finding the coordinates for Starfleet's beacon and sending Marking to scout the area. Prazak had agreed and ordered a full mission briefing for the following day.

So when he returned to his quarters late in the evening, Prazak forced himself to relax. He'd been thankful that Sa had not been waiting on him. He was in no mood for her company that evening.

After administering his injection and cleaning up, Prazak decided rest was what he needed more than anything. He left the balcony doors ajar. Naked, he crawled under the fur blankets spread across his massive bed.

A thought came to him just then. He'd shown Tarina what had transpired back on Earth during the eugenics wars. If he could show Starfleet the same, perhaps Picard would understand that the regulations he followed were foolhardy.

Lying back, Prazak pushed the blankets down to his waist and closed his eyes. Tarina was young, her telepathic powers not fully developed, hence the need for physical contact. Prazak didn't require physical touch to make a link.

Shutting out all distractions, Prazak opened his mind, searching for his target.

* * *

Startled, Deanna awoke with a violent jerk. She'd felt the probe into her subconscious mind, but the walls she'd built to prevent any intrusions had deterred the attempt to entire her mind and had forced her awake.

Deanna blinked a number of times to allow her vision to adjust to the surrounding darkness. If asked, she wouldn't be able to explain how she knew that it was Prazak that had found her in the dream world; she just did. What was more perplexing to her was why he had reached out. What was it he wanted? And, as an empath, would she be able to connect with him? She'd linked with other telepaths in the past, so it wasn't impossible, but it did mean giving herself over to him. Letting him take control. Was she prepared to do that?

Lying back down, Deanna made her decision. She'd take the risk. Prazak had not hurt her. Had not shown any hostility towards her. In fact, she knew he possessed actual feelings for her.

Closing her eyes, Deanna stilled her breathing and opened up her mind, tearing down the barriers; allowing him to find her.

It wasn't long before he did.

 _Deanna kept her voice flat. 'What do you want?'_

' _To show you,' Prazak's voice echoed in every corner of her mind._

' _Show me what?'_

' _The truth.'_

 _A thick cloudy fog formed before her and a moment later a figure emerged. Andrej Prazak. Clean shaven and dressed in twentieth century clothing. Wearing a black suit jacket and pants, polished dress shoes, a charcoal dress shirt and a scarlet tie, Prazak was as handsome as he was conflicted. He projected no emotions._

 _He stood before her. 'Are you willing to see the truth, Deanna Troi?''_

 _She worked to keep her voice from wavering. 'Yes. Show me so I can understand you, Andrej.'_

 _Prazak stepped to the side and gestured at the fog. It dissipated to reveal a scene from what Deanna somehow knew was Prazak's past._

 _The sky was dismally grey. They stood before a row of buildings, in some district of a major European city. Looking down, Deanna found the street beneath her feet was made of cobblestones. When she looked up again she saw a street café. Seated at one of the tables, sipping something from a small porcelain cup and saucer was Prazak. His companion, seated across from him was the infamous Khan. Both men wore suits and ties. Three other men, each as large and menacing looking as the two men at the table, stood behind Khan. Prazak and Khan were engaged in a discussion, or more pointedly Khan was speaking heatedly as Prazak continued to sip his drink. Deanna strained, but try as she might she could not hear the conversation._

' _I cannot hear what is being said,' Deanna stated._

' _Let go of your anxiety and you shall hear,' Prazak responded._

 _She did as he suggested. She took a deep breath. She exhaled and let all her fear leave upon that breath. When she did, she could hear._

' _You cannot avoid this war forever, Andrej,' Khan sneered. 'They will come for you eventually. Join me and I can protect you.'_

 _Prazak set his cup down. 'I do not require your protection, Khan. Your irrational fears of commoners is driving this war. It is you that has caused them to rally against us. If you had just resigned yourself to a normal life, none of this would be happening.'_

 _Khan scoffed. 'You're a hopeless fool. We were created for greatness, not normalcy. Something a commoner can never understand or ever hope to achieve. They need us to guide them. To rule them.'_

 _Prazak shook his head. 'You confuse greatness with madness, Khan. Who are you to decide their fate?'_

' _I am the one that was chosen,' Khan proclaimed with a puffed out chest._

' _Chosen?' Prazak chuckled. 'You're delusional. You consider yourself some superior being. Superior to even your genetically engineered brothers and sisters-'_

' _I am superior!' Khan spat._

 _Prazak picked his cup back up and took another sip. 'If you are so superior, why do fear the commoners?'_

' _I fear no one!' Khan refuted. He slammed a fist on the table, but if Prazak wasn't intimidated. He didn't even flinch. 'Last chance, Andrej, join me. If you do not then you are my enemy. Go live your pitiful existence amongst the commoners.'_

 _Prazak smiled. 'For all your bravado and superior intelligence, Khan, you fail to recognize that it was commoners who 'created' us. You speak down of them, yet without them we would not exist.'_

 _Khan's head jerked to the side for a moment. He looked back at Andrej. 'My mother, my creator, was no commoner. She was superior in every aspect. That is why I am the chosen one. Because of her.'_

 _Prazak shrugged his head to the side, showing his indifference._

 _An evil smile formed on Khan's lips. 'I mistook you for a man on the same level as myself, Andrej. In a way, I guess you are correct. I was mistaken to believe that a man born of a commoner whore could ever serve at my side.'_

 _Prazak set his cup down. He stood and smoothed his tie with a hand. 'I have nothing more to discuss with you.'_

 _When he moved to step away, Khan rose and blocked his path. Deanna watched, her breath caught in her throat, as the two men stared each other down._

 _Khan's evil grin widened. 'Your weakness, Andrej, is your love for the commoners. Your mother was a commoner whore. You bedded a commoner whore as well. While I can understand the thrill of such an encounter, the dominance, what I don't understand is why you decided to marry such filth. To lower yourself when you could have had so much more. And yet, I could have forgiven you of all of that, Andrej. I really could have, except you went and tainted our purity by producing two little bastards with your whorish wife. What's the matter with you, Andrej? Why do you love commoners more than your own people?'_

 _Prazak was holding Khan's stare. His jaw was firm when he replied, 'Continue to honor yourself, Khan. It is what you are best at. But, mark my words, it will be your undoing. Remember, brother, 'Pride goeth before a fall.' Good day.'_

 _He didn't wait for Khan to reply. Prazak moved to the side and stepped away. His back to Khan, probably in a show of disrespect, Prazak departed. Khan stared daggers into the man's back then snapped at his three underlings._

 _Deanna watched with horror as the men attacked. Grabbing Prazak from behind, they attempted to force him into a nearby alley, but to Prazak's credit he fought back to defend himself. As the fight continued, Prazak appeared to be gaining the upper hand until the men eventually overpowered him, using a blindsiding attack and hitting him across the jaw with some sort of blunt object. They forced him off the street into the darkened alley. Prazak continued to fight as best he could, but the men got him to the ground and proceeded to beat him without mercy._

 _Deanna wanted to look away, but couldn't. No matter which direction she turned her gaze, the scene was always before her. Khan's laughter haunted her. Her stomach churned with disgust as he stood by and watched his men beat their fallen target. When he signaled them to halt, Deanna saw a small pool of blood near Prazak's mouth. He groaned and tried to push himself up. Deanna was surprised, but Prazak was not a normal human and while the beating probably would have seriously injured or even killed a regular man, Prazak was still conscious and attempting to recover._

 _Khan lashed out and kicked Andrej in the ribs, sending him back to his stomach. It was then that Deanna saw the gun._

' _No,' she whispered._

' _You love them so much, Andrej? Then you shall die just like them.' Khan aimed the gun and fired two rounds into Prazak's back. The sound was deafening, blasting and booming in her mind._

 _Prazak didn't move again._

 _As Khan and his henchmen slinked away, the fog returned. The scene dissolved._

 _Deanna felt ill. When she looked at her companion, she saw the same look as earlier._

' _Why?' she needed to know._

 _Prazak shrugged. 'Khan could not accept rejection.'_

' _Did you know-' she started._

' _That he would attack me?' Now Prazak smiled a little. 'Of course I knew. Khan was a coward. He had his men attack me because he knew he could not take me on his own. Only when I was down did he strike. The one thing I did not plan for was him actually attempting to kill me. Until that moment, no child of the eugenics had attacked another.'_

' _Andrej-' Deanna breathed._

' _That is not the worst of what Khan did,' Prazak interrupted. 'Look.'_

 _He gestured and the fog vanished._

' _I don't know if I can,' Deanna protested, but her eyes drifted forward._

' _To understand the man I am, you must look,' Prazak insisted._

 _Deanna steeled her nerves and watched._

 _A new scene appeared. They were surrounded by countryside. Somehow, Deanna knew it was Prazak's home in Czechoslovakia. Rolling hills, a meadow, a low stone wall. Off to the left was a simple, yet welcoming looking house. There was an old twentieth century vehicle parked in the drive next to it. Deanna looked to the right. A large tree was opposite the wall, its barren branches hanging low. She barely noticed it. Her eyes focused on the back of a man. A man she knew to be Prazak. This time he wore jeans, work boots, and a long sleeve shirt. She could see he was holding a shovel in his hands. His head was low, staring at the freshly turned earth. Deanna looked. She gasped. Graves. Five graves._

' _Andrej,' a voice called._

 _The image of Prazak slowly turned. The front side of his body was dirty, a mix of dirt, sweat, and even blood. His face was caked with dirt and sweat. He looked tired._

 _Deanna saw a man standing a few feet away, a blue mist surrounded him, but quickly vanished. Tall and lanky he had brown hair and kind eyes. Sad eyes. He wore a grey business suit and tie._

' _Andrej, I'm sorry,' the man stated._

 _Prazak sneered. Dropping the shovel, he strode towards the wall. Deanna watched as he snatched up a handgun that she hadn't noticed before. Prazak charged the slide. He held it in one hand and stretched out his arm, aiming the weapon at the newcomer._

' _This is your fault, Seven,' Prazak growled._

 _The man did not flinch. He shook his head. 'Andrej, I had no idea he would do this.'_

' _Didn't you?' Prazak challenged as he took a step closer to the other man. 'You filled Khan's head with ideas. Told him how perfect he was. How he could be a savior to the world.'_

' _I thought-'_

 _Prazak spat on the ground. 'No, Mister Seven! You created a monster! The world didn't need saving! You meddled in our affairs and this is the result!'_

' _Andrej, I don't know what to say.' Seven sighed._

' _Do you know what he did to them?' Prazak challenged. 'Do you?"_

 _Seven lowered his head as he shook it from side to side._

' _He killed them all! Murdered them all!' Prazak yelled. 'He let his animals loose upon my family! They killed my grandmother. They raped my mother and wife! Over and over! And when he was bored with them he killed them. Then he killed my children last. He made them watch!'_

" _How do you know this?' Seven asked in a low voice._

' _This is how,' Prazak responded._

 _Deanna watched as Prazak moved back to the wall. He kept his handgun leveled at Seven as he reached down and picked up a black satchel that, just like the handgun, Deanna had not noticed before. Prazak tossed the bag at Seven who caught it as it hit his chest. Opening it up, he withdrew a rectangular object._

' _The sick bastard filmed it,' Prazak cried when Seven looked up at him. 'He filmed it and left it for me to see. He laughed the entire time. He even forced himself on my mother and wife when his men were done! Calling them whores and sluts as he did his disgusting deed.'_

 _Seven was shaking his head again. He put the object back inside the bag which he clutched in his right hand. He stared at Prazak. "Andrej, we can't bring them back.'_

' _You think I don't know that?' Prazak scowled. 'I just finished burying them!'_

' _Come with me, Andrej,' Seven stated evenly. 'There's nothing left for you here. Come with me and help me stop Khan once and for all. Help me stop him from doing this,' he gestured at the graves, 'to any more innocent people.'_

 _Prazak buried his face in his free hand for a moment before looking back towards Seven. 'I'll stop Khan. He can't hide from me forever. I'll find him and I'll make him pay for what he's done.'_

 _Now Seven took a step towards Prazak. 'If you attempt to go after him alone, he'll kill you before you can ever get close enough to him.'_

' _My life means nothing at this point,' Prazak said with a glance at the graves._

 _Seven stepped closer. Prazak's arm stiffened. Seven wasn't deterred, 'Did you ever ask yourself why Khan tried to recruit you? And why, out of all your brothers and sisters, he felt it necessary to attempt to kill you when you refused him? Why he did this to you as payback for your defiance?' He motioned at the graves._

 _Prazak's brow furrowed. 'What are you saying, Mister Seven?'_

' _Khan fears you, Andrej. He fears you because you are his equal. He knows only you can stop him. So he tried to stop you first. And when you survived he did this to break your spirit.'_

' _I don't understand,' Prazak mumbled, his voice shaky._

' _Only you, Andrej, are on par with Khan. You match or surpass him in all areas; strength, intelligence, stamina and so on. It infuriated him that you, born from a woman that joined the program as a means to help herself financially…not a scientist, can beat him.'_

' _My mother was a school teacher. She told me she answered an ad in the newspaper. She needed extra money to help my sick grandmother,' Prazak stated. 'Khan called her a whore. A prostitute. She wasn't a prostitute.'_

' _I know that, Andrej. Your mother was a good person. Your entire family was,' Seven offered._

 _Deanna could see that Prazak's eyes were wet. She never thought she'd see an augment cry. She was wrong._

 _Prazak's voice cracked. 'He needs to pay for what he's done.'_

 _Seven nodded. 'He will, Andrej, he will. But join me. I've assembled others that can help. That want to see Khan toppled. To save this world once and for all. But they need a leader. I can only guide them. You can lead them, Andrej. Please forgive me. I misjudged Khan and as a result he did this. Help me earn your forgiveness. Your family would not want to see you throw your life away. You want revenge. I understand that. But like I said, you cannot achieve it on your own, no matter how strong you are.'_

 _Prazak took a deep breath then looked at the graves. When he looked back at Seven, his face was drawn, exhausted. He lowered his weapon. 'Give me a moment to say goodbye?'_

' _Of course.' Seven nodded then moved back._

 _The scene faded. Deanna exhaled. Her chest hurt. Her entire body trembled, her skin prickly. Her companion stood before her. The fog was gone. They were surrounded by darkness, yet she could see him._

' _The truth,' Prazak said. 'Nothing more.'_

 _Deanna looked into his eyes. They were sad. Hurt. Lonely. She reached up to touch his face, but he pulled away._

' _You do not need to face these memories alone,' Deanna said. "I'm here for you, Andrej."_

' _I showed them to you so you know the truth. Not because I require your pity.'_

' _I do not pity you,' Deanna answered._

 _Prazak was staring back into her eyes. 'I believe you, Deanna.'_

' _I want to help you, Andrej.'_

' _There is no help anymore,' he replied and his image started to fade. 'Only death awaits me.'_

' _Andrej, no!' Deanna called. 'Stay!'_

 _His image flicked then faded._

 _A moment later she was alone within her own mind again._

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I apologize for the delay. I've been very busy at work and had little time for reviewing and editing. I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you!**

* * *

Having dressed immediately after he severed the telepathic connection, Prazak was prepared. He waited next to the door, so when the chime rang, he hit the activation button before the sound had even stopped.

Taking a step back, he allowed his guest to enter. "I knew you'd come."

Deanna Troi stepped just far enough into his quarters to allow the doors to close automatically. "Did you?"

Prazak went to the windows, staring at the snowfall amidst the star studded night sky. The moon was bright and full. He found himself wondering where Deanna's starship was located.

When Deanna spoke again, he knew she'd stepped closer towards him. "Andrej, why did you show me those things?"

"Because you had to see them," he answered without turning. "You wouldn't have believe me if I had just told you."

"A lofty presumption on your part," Deanna quipped.

Now he did turn. Deanna had crossed the length of the room. She was only a few paces away from where he stood. With a sigh, Prazak said, "Perhaps, but am I wrong?"

Deanna cocked her head. "You've proven yourself to be quite a different man than history would have one believe."

Prazak shrugged. "Your Captain presumes all of the children of eugenics were power crazed madmen like Khan. The only way I felt I could prove that was not the case was to show you."

"But you don't deny that you killed during the war?" Deanna asked. Her tone was not accusatory.

"Of course not," Prazak remarked. "I was a soldier fighting for a cause."

She nodded. "But you killed outside of that role. You hunted down Khan's followers and executed them."

Brow furrowed, Prazak fought the urge to snap. He kept his voice low when he answered, "I killed those responsible for the slaughter of my family. They were the enemy. They fought for Khan. Followed his orders. I showed you the result of what they did. You witnessed the conversation between Mister Seven and myself. Do I need to repeat it?"

Deanna responded with a small shake of her head.

Prazak's eyes narrowed. "Stand there and judge me all you want, but those men deserved to die. My only regret is that I did not have the opportunity to kill Khan myself."

"Andrej,-" Deanna frowned.

He shook his head as he glared at her. "Do you know what it's like to bury your loved ones? Does your Captain? To dig five graves and fill them with the only people that ever mattered? The whole time knowing they suffered and died because of you?"

"I'm sorry," Deanna whispered.

Prazak sighed and changed his tone. He reminded himself that none of this was Troi's fault. In fact, she seemed to be the only Starfleet officer on his side. "I'm sorry. I'm not telling you this to upset you, Deanna. I didn't show you those memories to frighten you. I showed them to help you understand who I am. What I am. I told you before I will not let such atrocities happen again as long as I have the means to stop them. If your Captain refuses to believe that an augment would act in such a manner well there's not much I can do to change his mind."

Deanna looked away from him.

With a huff, Prazak moved away, brushing by the counselor. He stopped in front of the fireplace. His eyes locked on the flickering flames. He felt mesmerized by them, by their beauty, but also their deadliness. Placing a hand on the mantle, he bowed his head and closed his eyes.

He had no idea what to do anymore. A crushing weight gripped his heart. It felt like his prolonged existence suddenly had no meaning. He hated it and hated himself for feeling that way.

He could smell her as she drew near him. Her scent was intoxicating, but it did little to ease his troubled mind. It wasn't until she touched him, her hand on his shoulder blade, that Prazak opened his eyes again.

He looked straight into her black orbs. He didn't think such eyes could reveal emotions, but they did. They reflected his own emotions. His pain, anger and despair. But also something else. Something akin to acceptance. Perhaps even desire.

When he dropped his hand from the mantle and turned to face her, she moved her hand from his back to his chest. Directly over his heart. She placed her other there as well.

"Andrej, you don't have to face this alone." Her hands slid upward and encircled his neck. "I'm on your side."

"I would never ask you to take my side over that of your commanding officer," Prazak replied.

She leaned into him. "I know, but I am willing all the same. Your place is here on Sardis. Not a prison cell back on Earth."

"I'd die before I ever reached Earth," Prazak stated, but did not elaborate further on the remark.

"I don't want to see you die," Deanna answered.

His arms were around her waist then, pulling her into him. Leaning his head down, he inched closer to her. She pushed up to meet him. Their lips brushed against one another. Prazak's heart raced from the brief touch, from the warmness he felt from her. He tightened his arms and pressed his mouth fully against hers. She returned the kiss and when her tongue grazed his lips, seeking entry, he opened up to her. As their kiss deepened and the passion intensified, Prazak's mind began to settle.

Maybe he would make it out of this alive after all.

* * *

Annoyed, Picard turned off the monitor that sat on his desk in his ready room. Nothing new from Starfleet Command. They still wanted him to detain Prazak and his men, regardless of the change in circumstances on the planet below.

What really concerned Picard, but he'd kept silent about it, was the fact that his superiors back on Earth did not seem at all surprised to learn that Prazak was not only alive, but had stopped aging; him and his companions.

 _But if they already knew that information, then they must have already known that Prazak was here. And if that's the case, why was no one sent to apprehend him already?_

Just as the thought of the lost beacon entered his mind, the left door, the one that led to the bridge, chimed.

"Come," Picard stated as he stood, tugging on his tunic as he did.

Data and Riker entered. Picard shook his head as the two came to stand before his desk. "Nothing new from Starfleet Command."

Riker stated what was on Picard's mind. "Captain, it's possible they already know about him and want him in order to determine how he's stopped himself from aging."

Picard nodded a little. "The allure of eternal life. Something that men have been striving to achieve for generations."

"And it appears the General has found it," Data interrupted.

"Which leads me to wonder, how did he find it?" Picard spoke out loud. "When he and his people left Earth, were they sent here on purpose? Or was it a complete coincidence this is where they ended up?"

"The records are incomplete and much of the data has been lost over time," Data spoke. "However, from what I have been able to determine, when Prazak left Earth, he left with a much larger group of augments than we have seen on the planet. Much like Khan, they fled on a sleeper ship that must have been intercepted while enroute to this planet."

"That would explain his dated knowledge of Starfleet," Riker mused while stroking his chin. "And we do know that he teamed up with Gary Seven, another man from history that we know very little about."

"Seven may have known about this planet and felt it was a good place for Prazak and his people to resettle." Picard turned to stare at the starscape beyond the _Enterprise'_ s windows. When he turned back, he looked at his two senior officers. "Whether Seven knew about whatever it is that keeps these men alive or not is still up for debate. And if he did know, did he inform Prazak?"

"An alternative theory, Captain," Data cocked his head in his usual manner, "is that Seven knew about the state of the people on this planet and sent Prazak and his people here to help. He could not do it alone, but he had a small army of genetically enhanced men and women at his disposal. Men and women that needed a new home due to fear and distrust after the end of the eugenics wars."

"Makes sense," Riker agreed. "Prazak's loyalty to Seven may have been enough to convince the augment to take up the cause."

Picard let out a deep sigh. "These situations are never as straight forward as Starfleet Command believes them to be. I'll speak with Empress Tarina again, however at this time our orders still stand."

He caught the slight frown on Riker's face, but his second in command merely nodded in agreement. "We can return whenever you are ready, Captain."

"Inform Doctor Crusher to meet us in the main shuttlebay at zero-seven-hundred."

"Aye, Sir," Riker said.

"Mister Data, when we depart, you will have command of the _Enterprise_. Any messages from Earth are to be relayed to me at once."

"Yes, Captain," Data said. "I am continuing to monitor the weather patterns and it appears another storm is moving across the region where Commander Riker's away team first landed. I shall keep you informed."

* * *

"I should be getting back," Deanna hummed.

Andrej smiled down at her. "So soon? The sun hasn't even risen yet."

Deanna giggled a little. Head resting on his shoulder, she traced small circles on his bare chest with her nails.

After he'd kissed her, Deanna had given into her desires for the man. They'd ended up in his bed, entwined in each other's arm. Exploring each other's bodies. He'd made her feel amazing. It had been everything she'd imagined it would be. Hoped it would be. And more.

But Deanna knew it couldn't last, even if she never wanted the moment to end. Regardless of what they had shared together, Prazak was still facing an uncertain future. And no matter how his future played out, she could not be a part of it.

Deanna knew she had to do whatever she could convince Captain Picard to abandon his decision to arrest Prazak and his men. They were not the criminals history made them out to be and it was clear, at least to Deanna, that Prazak was needed here.

"It'll be hard enough explaining my absence to Worf," Deanna chuckled. "And I don't know when the Captain and Commander Riker will return. If I don't show back up until morning, they'll know for sure I spent the night with you."

"And what if they do? Are you ashamed of what we did?" Prazak questioned while gently stroking her back, his fingers tussling the ends of her hair every once in a while.

"Absolutely not," Deanna responded at once. Reaching up, she grabbed his hand that was propped behind his head. Interlacing her fingers with his, she pressed the back of his hand to her mouth. "I'm not ashamed of this. But they'll think my judgement has been compromised because of it."

Prazak pulled his hand from hers and placed his fingers on the underside of her chin. He tilted her head upward and when she was looking into his eyes, he kissed her. When their lips parted he said, "I'm not ashamed either. Because the way you've made me feel…I haven't felt this way in a very long time. For the longest time, my life has been nothing but war. You've reminded me that there is more to life than just war. I'd forgotten what love felt like."

Deanna felt the burning blush in her cheeks. "I bet you say that to all the women."

Prazak grinned. "There isn't a woman on all of Sardis that has captured my attention like you have, Deanna. Your kindness. Your compassion. Your beauty. Everything about you is simply amazing."

A small sigh escaped her lips. "I wish things could be different."

Prazak scooted up so his back was fully against the intricately designed headrest of his bed. Deanna shifted when his hands went to her hips and pulled her into his lap. One of his hands ghosted up her naked form, but his eyes never left hers. He brushed the backs of two of his fingers along her jaw then pushed a few stray curls behind her ear.

His gentleness send a shiver down her spine. "Deanna, I too wish things could be different. I'd never ask you to give up Starfleet for me. All I ask is that you stay just a little longer with me right now. No matter what happens, I want to remember the night I was able to share with you."

Her forehead fell against his. Peering down into his eyes, Deanna's hands traveled up and down the sides of his torso, and she smiled when his eyes fluttered in response to her touch. He still had one hand on her hip, but his other moved from her face to the back of her head. His fingers tangled into her wavy locks and he pulled her down to his lips once again.

Before she let him kiss her again, Deanna whispered against his lips, "I'll always remember this night with you, Andrej. Always."

She kissed him. A deep, passion filled kiss that grew in intensity, fueled by erotic desire. Again, Deanna Troi gave all of herself Andrej Prazak.

* * *

Upon arriving back on the surface, Picard worked to keep his expression neutral. Troi and Worf, along with a group of soldiers had met the shuttlecraft, but this time the soldiers led Picard, as well as Commander Riker and Doctor Crusher, towards the tower that rose above all else in Sardis. Lieutenant Sandy had stayed back on the ship. Picard and Crusher had both agreed the young Lieutenant had had enough adventure for one mission. He'd debated leaving Riker behind as well, but his First Officer had insisted on returning, determined to see the mission through to its completion. Riker was still focused on locating the lost beacon.

Worf fell in step and reported, "No new developments, Sir. It was a relatively quiet and uneventful night."

Picard nodded. From the corner of his eye he looked towards his ship's counselor. "Counselor Troi?"

Troi's face was drawn, her brow furrowed as if in thought. It took Picard saying her name a second time to draw her attention to him. "Counselor?"

Deanna shook her head, as if clearing away some thought, "Sir, I'm sorry. I did learn a bit more about General Prazak."

"How?" Riker questioned.

Picard noted the tension in his officer's voice. Riker and Troi were no longer a couple, but it was clear that Will still had feelings, deep feelings, for the Betazoid woman.

For her part, Troi ignored Riker's tone and focused on Picard. "Sir, Prazak projected telepathic images to me. He showed me scenes from his past. Specifically related to Khan and what Khan had done to him."

"How can you know for sure what he showed you was real?" Crusher asked, her voice curious and unsuspicious.

"It's difficult to explain how. All I can say is that I know what I saw really happened."

The group had stopped. They were still outside in the cold and the snow. They'd been escorted to a high stone wall at the tower's base and off to one side. A beautifully designed steel gate was set into the wall with an arch above it that had what appeared to be words interlaced into the designs. Picard could not read what it said.

"Can you explain what you saw, Counselor?" Picard asked when all but two of the soldiers left.

"He showed me how Khan attempted to recruit him and then when Prazak refused, Khan had him beaten. He then tried to kill Prazak," Troi recounted.

Picard nodded a little. What little Deanna described coincided with the information Guinan had told him. "What else?"

"Another scene. It was horrible. Tragic." Deanna's lips curled downward. "He was burying his entire family. Khan had killed them. Then Gary Seven appeared and took Prazak with him. I wanted him to show me more, but he left my mind after that. Captain, in my opinion, Prazak clearly fought in the eugenics wars, but he fought on the right side. He fought against Khan. How is that criminal?"

Picard opened his mouth to reply, but quickly snapped it shut when he saw Prazak approach. With him was Empress Tarina. Three additional soldiers, clad in purple armor, followed a number of paces behind; Picard assumed they were some sort of royal guard force. On Tarina's opposite side was Prazak's feline, the Empress' hand on top of the large cat's head. Picard could hear the cat's rumbling purrs as the group arrived.

"Your Highness. General." Picard bowed his head a tad.

"Captain." Tarina smiled. "I hope we can resolve this matter as expeditiously as possible."

"As do I, Your Highness," Picard replied.

Tarina gestured at the gate. "Please."

Prazak stepped over and pushed the gates open, separating them in the middle with both hands. He stepped to the side and Picard took up the General's place at the Empress' side.

Behind the wall was a beautifully kept garden. Even though they were still outdoors, a wave of heat blasted Picard as he stepped across the threshold. He concluded there had to be some sort of heating system, but he could not locate any visible ducts or equipment.

The garden itself was immaculately maintained. Stone paths snaked throughout with a variety of different floral beds and plants. While the paths were clear, the beds themselves were covered with a layer of snow. A number of the plants and flower petals had snow on them as well, but not enough to obscure their beauty.

"This garden is beautiful, Your Highness," Picard stated as the duo walked slowly along the main path.

"It was a gift from my grandfather to my grandmother," Tarina explained. "She loved the belora flower the most and it became one of our family's symbols." She glanced over her shoulder. "General Prazak tells me it is similar to a rose on Earth."

"It is," Picard agreed. "Roses come in many colors, but the most popular is the red rose. Used throughout our history to symbolize love."

"A powerful image." Tarina sighed.

Picard took that moment to glance back. The royal guardsmen had spread out, but Prazak and his feline remained a respectful distance behind his Empress and Picard. The General kept one hand on the hilt of his longsword and his cloak billowed a little as he walked. Picard smirked, he imagined that Tarina felt safer with Prazak nearby than the three guardsmen combined. Somehow, he didn't blame her.

Picard's officers were also exploring the garden, but remaining together as they did.

Tarina paused in front of one of the bushes of what Picard took to be the flower she had mentioned. Very much like a rose, it had deep red petals, but also purple ones. It was also larger than the average rose, but just as lovely. A little coating of snow covered the bunches, so when Tarina reached out and touched one, the bush shook and the snow fluttered to the ground.

 _So peaceful._

Tarina turned to face him. "So, tell me, Captain, what have your superiors ordered of you?"

Picard took another moment to admire the peacefulness of the garden before he replied. "The same as I told you during our last meeting, Your Highness."

Tarina frowned. "That is unfortunate, Captain. I cannot allow it."

"Your Highness, I'm not convinced that what my superiors believe about Prazak and his men to be true. However, my duty is clear. And that, Your Highness, is where my dilemma lies."

The young ruler cocked an eyebrow. "Please. Explain."

"Fear can be crippling," Picard said. "And many people from my world still fear men like Prazak. Because of what he is. Where he comes from. What he's done. He admits that he's killed out of revenge."

"He killed men that killed his family," Tarina countered. "They struck first."

Picard blinked. "You know of that?"

"I know all about the people that serve me." Tarina smiled. "What ruler wouldn't? And I also know that since Prazak and his people arrived on this planet they have done nothing but help the people of Sardis. It was Prazak and his people that originally freed the slaves from the Ti'hi. They helped build this city. Taught us how to defend ourselves. Formed an army. All in exchange for nothing more than a place to live. A place to call home. And now, you ask me to hand him over to you because of what happened centuries ago on Earth? A planet I know nothing about? A war neither of us knows anything about? What must a man do to prove himself to you, Captain?"

"I know this is difficult," Picard mused.

"You say your people fear men like Prazak because of what he is," Tarina injected. "You chastise and condemn a person because of how he was born? What choice did he have in that? You should judge him based on who he is, not what he is, Captain."

"Can you help us find the beacon we are searching for? If Prazak does that-"

"Was saving your captured officers not enough?" Tarina interrupted.

Shouts shattered the calm, interrupting Picard's thoughts. He was glad; Tarina had made a solid point.

The shouts followed by heavy footfalls. Picard watched as the three guards suddenly appeared and surrounded both him and the Empress. They drew their swords. Picard watched as Prazak spun back towards the entrance gates. His dual swords sang against the inside of their sheaths as he drew them with an impressive speed and grace.

The cat crouched and growled. The hair on its back raising as its tailed twitched rapidly from side to side.

But for all the defensive postures that were taken, it all appeared for naught. The approaching shouts were from General Herschel and a group of soldiers that accompanied him.

Herschel strode forward and Picard watched the combat posture of the Empress' protectors ease.

He came forward. When he reached Prazak, the senior General spun and joined Herschel and as one they came forward to speak to the Empress. The royal guards parted and sheathed their weapons.

"Your Highness, I am sorry for appearing with such haste." Herschel bowed slightly. "Forgive the intrusion."

"What is it, General Herschel?" Tarina demanded.

He looked towards Prazak for a moment then back at Tarina. Herschel pressed his eyes closed for a heartbeat. When he opened them he said, "It is the village of La'trec."

"La'trec?" Prazak frowned. "What's happened?"

Herschel's frown matched that of his friends. "La'trec burns."

* * *

With a sneer, Prazak watched as Riker, Troi, and Worf approached the convoy. He hadn't had time to argue about their presence with the Empress. He'd simply nodded. Their Captain and doctor had chosen to stay with Tarina. To discuss more details, Prazak assumed. He found himself caring less and less about that situation. One way or another, he would never set foot on Picard's starship.

The Starfleet officers were bundled up and huddling together against the cold. Prazak waved them over and when they joined him, he pointed to the rear of the vehicle. "You shall ride with me."

He didn't wait for them to respond. He climbed into the back of the vehicle and took a seat. Zoja followed and curled up on the floor, her chin resting on Prazak's snow caked boot.

The others followed and sat across from him. When they were all inside, the rear hatch closed and the vehicle rumbled to life. Within a few minutes they were moving.

Prazak eyed the officers as they swayed back and forth in rhythm to the tracked vehicle's movements. The combat vehicles were anything but comfortable. Andrej felt Troi watching him. When she'd left his quarters, he found himself missing her almost immediately, but now he had to remain focused. He also wouldn't say or do anything, treat her any differently than before, because of her words to him. She didn't want the others to know. So he simply smiled a little then leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

They'd traveled for some time when Commander Riker spoke up, "Where are we going?"

"A farming village near the Frozen Lake," Prazak replied. He kept his eyes closed.

"What has happened?" Worf wanted to know.

Now Prazak did open his eyes. "From what we know, the Ti'hi attacked the village in the night. Perhaps out of revenge for us killing the chieftain that captured you."

"Why attack that village?" Riker questioned.

"A child from that village found your ship," Prazak stated flatly. "In fact, if it wasn't for that shepherd boy, we'd never have found you in time. My guess, the Ti'hi learned that information and retaliated. We'll know more when we arrive."

"How so?" Troi asked.

"My soldiers there have taken prisoners for questioning," Prazak told her.

He was happy when they stopped asking questions. At least for a time they did. It was Troi that interrupted the silence this time. "How did you come to have the cat?"

"Her name is Zoja," Prazak answered quietly.

"Zoja," Troi repeated.

"I rescued her when she was no bigger than this." Prazak held out his hands to indicate size. "Her mother had been killed by Ti'hi poachers. They must have overlooked her. She would have starved without her mother, so I took her and nursed her back to health. She has been at my side ever since. But she is still wild and at times disappears back to the mountains. She always comes back though."

"The mountains are her home?" Riker said.

Prazak nodded. "Yes. Davnora cats live in the mountains. The Ti'hi hunt them for their fur and their eyes. They believe that by consuming a Davnora cats eyes, one can become a Davnora cat. It is ludicrous and disgusting. As you've probably seen, Zoja's eyes change color based on her mood. Some believe they can see into our souls and judge us accordingly. They say that if a Davnora cat's eyes change to a solid black with a red spec in the center, that you have been judged as evil and your soul damned. I have never seen such a color scheme in their eyes."

"Zoja is very beautiful. How did you come across her in the mountains?" Troi smiled.

Prazak smirked. "You all ask a lot of questions. But at least you are concerned with Zoja and not myself for once."

He saw the looks of unease on their faces. Prazak smiled and leaned forward. Removing his belt, he placed his sword across his legs then drew it from its sheath. It sang as it came free and for a moment he caught the looks of surprise that replaced the officers' uneasiness.

Even in the tight confines of the vehicle, Prazak was able to flip the sword gracefully around in his hands then held it out as if on display. Nodding at the pommel he explained, "The pommel is crafted in the likeness of a Davnora cat. The jewels in its eyes change when light reflects from different angles."

"Like a prism." Riker nodded.

"Yes. You see, this sword belongs to the Warrior Ruler, Empress Tarina's grandfather. Even before Zoja came to be at my side, the Davnora cat was a symbol of Sardis. They are protected and it is against our laws to harm one of them. If one of the cats is found injured or sick, we have a duty to protect it and nurse it back to health."

"May I?" Riker asked with a jerk of his chin to the sword.

Prazak smiled a little. He had no fear of these three and he would prove that to them. He handed over the sword. Riker took it, his arms bowed a little as he did.

"It's heavier than I expected," Riker said as Troi and Worf chuckled a little. "And it's gorgeous."

Troi was examining the sword then looked at Prazak. "What are the inscriptions on the base of the blade?"

"The craftsman who made the sword inlaid that inscription to honor the Warrior Ruler. It reads, _'This blade is our strength and whoever wields it, thus our savior'_."

"You said it belongs to the Warrior Ruler," Worf said as Riker handed the sword back to Prazak. "Who is he and how do you have his sword?"

Prazak huffed a bit. "The Warrior Ruler was the Emperor of Sardis for many decades. He led the revolt against the Ti'hi slavers from within. He was only a boy at the time."

"Tarina told Captain Picard that you freed the slaves." Riker pointed out.

Prazak shrugged. "Yes. We led the assault from the outside with a force comprised of people that had been in hiding that had not yet been enslaved. The Warrior Ruler was already a slave. When we attacked from outside, he attacked from within. The Ti'hi had no idea what was happening. After they gained their freedom, the people of Sardis, inspired by the boy's actions, made him their ruler."

Prazak glanced at sword then continued. "He ruled for many decades, as I said. When the Ti'hi began to attack again, to try to recapture their slaves, the Warrior Ruler made a pact with the Hurons on the other side of Tega Peak. They supplied the materials for the wall in exchange for outposts and a guard force to protect their lands. It was after those negotiations that the Warrior Ruler fell."

Looking at his audience, he found they seemed enthralled by his tale. "We were traveling back across the pass of Tega Peak. The negotiations had taken longer than expected, months longer, so we were traveling through difficult terrain and thick snow. Our technology was not as it is now, so our vehicles were not yet equipped with the tracks. While moving through the pass, a band of Ti'hi ambushed the Warrior Ruler's vehicle. I was not the Supreme Commander at the time, so I was in a vehicle further back, protecting the rear of the movement."

Closing his eyes, Prazak inhaled and exhaled a number of times. He opened his eyes again and said, "Because of the length of the negotiations, the Warrior Ruler was traveling with his family. When we received word that the vehicles ahead were under attack, I ordered my soldiers to dismount and move forward on foot. When we arrived, the scene was chaotic. More Ti'hi than we'd ever seen at one time were attacking and killing our people. They were vicious, but also organized. The Warrior Ruler was at the thick of the fight, battling to protect his family. We surged forward, cutting down the enemy as fast as we could. But there were so many and my soldiers began to fall, just like the others had. Then we watched as a Ti'hi chieftain attacked the Warrior Ruler from behind. His blow cut through the man's armor like it was nothing and separated his body almost in half. It was horrific, but it fueled us to keep fighting, to push forward. We did."

Prazak paused to catch his breath then went on. "And as we fought, the snow turned black. Our blood spilled just as quickly as the Ti'hi. At one point I was surrounded. I took a blow in the back from a warhammer and was knocked to the ground. My own sword was broken in two. Useless. When I was convinced death was upon me, I saw two Ti'hi pull the Warrior Ruler's young child, a boy of no more than five years old as you measure time, from the vehicle and stab him through the back. It was like time stood still at that moment and all I could see was this child being stabbed and there was nothing I could do to prevent it."

"And just as suddenly, the chaos returned. Those of us that still lived were driven even further at what we'd just witnessed. At the cruelness of the Ti'hi as they tried to murder a child and then laughed as they tossed him to the blood soaked snow. I don't know how, but I found this sword in my hand." Prazak lifted it a little. "I must have picked it up from the ground at random. I fought my way back to my feet. I was overcome with rage and battle lust. I pushed forward. My soldiers followed. They fell one by one around me. When I faced the chieftain that had struck down the Warrior Ruler, I plunged this sword through his sternum. And when he fell to his back, I pulled back then drove it into his throat. I watched him die. Quickly, but painfully. I didn't care. When the last of the Ti'hi were killed, all that was left of our force was myself and two of my men. I went to the boy and cradled him in my arms as my soldiers called for reinforcements. They checked on the boy's mother, who had fainted in the vehicle, but was unharmed by the Ti'hi. I guess they didn't see her in there. I thought the boy would die, so I held him, comforted him. I even cried with him. I'd never experienced true exhaustion until after that battle. Eventually, Herschel and Marking arrived with reinforcements. We learned later that the scouts that had been sent ahead of the convoy had been ambushed as well. Killed before they could send word of the attack. It took us over five days to locate all their bodies and that was with the help of Huron trackers that came to assist."

Prazak heard Riker whistle in astonishment.

Jutting his chin out a little, Prazak said, "The Warrior Ruler's son survived. He went on to rule and became known as The Kindly One by the people of Sardis for his compassion, justice and understanding. He made the nobility into governors and state officials, forcing them to contribute to Sardis. He ensured the wall that his father died for was built and ordered the names of all those that died that day to be inscribed upon the wall. Now we put the names of all that die in defense of Sardis on the wall. But because of the wound inflicted upon him that day at Tega Peak, he could not be a soldier like his father. Instead, he studied diplomacy and strategic engagements. He loved reading maps. Years into his rule, his knowledge of effective battle planning ensured we were able to defeat the Klingon invaders while keeping the Ti'hi from taking advantage of the situation."

With a smile, Prazak brought the story to its conclusion. "His mother was deeply affected by what happened at Tega Peak and chose only to rule until her son recovered. After his recovery he was appointed as Emperor. At his first official ceremony as our new ruler, in front of a crowd of commoners, nobility, and soldiers that filled the Great Hall and most of the passageways of the tower, The Kindly One presented me with his father's sword and appointed me as Supreme Commander and Protector of Sardis. For all to hear, he recounted the battle in great detail. He said, when the Ti'hi killed his father then stabbed him in the back, the icy blade filled him with dread. He was convinced he was going to die. And as he lie there, bleeding in the snow, he said he could actually feel the cold while he watched his father's soldiers fight with honor and bravery to the bitter end. Then he saw me take up his father's sword and use it to cut down the Warrior Ruler's killer and the rest of the Ti'hi and that filled him with hope. He ruled for many decades, but he never truly recovered from his wound. When he died all of Sardis and Huron mourned him. We erected a statue of him in the Field of Honor and buried him alongside his father and mother. His daughter, his only child, Tarina, now rules. I continue to serve her as I did her father and her grandfather."

Prazak sheathed the sword. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes once again. Even remembering the battle seemed to exhaust him. He didn't open his eyes again until the vehicle stopped.

As the ramp lowered, the chilly wind blew a foul scent into the vehicle. The scent of charred smoke and burning bodies. Prazak eyed the trio for a moment. "What I've told you, what I've shown you, that is who I am. That is Andrej Prazak. I tell you now, I will die before I leave this planet with you. Because Sardis is my home and her people are my people. I will die fighting if I must. And when your eyes take in what the Ti'hi have done to this village, remember that. Remember that I am fighting for my people. I shall not abandon them for any reason. And if you are still convinced that I am just another Khan Singh, then so be it. At that point we shall meet not as allies, but as enemies. And I warn you, I do not show mercy to my enemies."

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I apologize for the delay. I've been very busy at work and had little time for reviewing and editing. I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you!**

* * *

If Deanna hadn't been told that they were heading to a farming village, she doubted she would have been able to come to the conclusion on her own. Not with the present state of the village. Or more accurately, what was left of it.

Burning hollow shells was all that remained of the majority of the structures that had once made up the small community. Even with the light snowfall, the charred remains still smoldered and smoked, filling the air with a choking haze. Some buildings were still burning.

Yet the decrepit state of the buildings was not what troubled Deanna the most. The pain and suffering that engulfed her physical senses and needled her empathic ones were overpowering. The emotions were so intense that she stumbled a little in the snow.

Riker was next to her, catching her arm as she placed her other hand on the side of the vehicle for support. "Deanna?" he whispered.

"I'm…okay," she stated after a moment. "I was just overwhelmed with the flood of emotions."

Looking up, she caught Riker's worried stare. "Do you need to go back in the vehicle?" he asked gently.

"No," Deanna responded immediately. Up righting herself, she blinked a number of times. Prazak, who had went on ahead to talk to some of his soldiers, to include General Herschel, returned. Deanna looked the General in the eyes. "I'm okay. Really."

Zoja, who had followed her master back to the group, mewed softly. When Deanna looked down at the cat, it sat back on its haunches and tilted its head. Zoja's eyes were a golden hue. Deanna wasn't sure what that color represented. However, whether due to some psychosomatic response or an actual calming aura the mysterious cat was able to project, Deanna's mind felt some relief.

"Some of the survivors are assembled outside what remains of the village's pub," Prazak said. "Follow me."

Riker kept an arm on Deanna, but she didn't protest. Worf took up a position on her other side. When Prazak turned, his thick cloak flapping in the wind, Deanna tried to focus on the man's back. Yet it wasn't long before her eyes wandered.

In addition to the smoky stench of the burning buildings, other foul odors wafted towards the group. Looking about, Deanna struggled to keep her emotions in check. Death and destruction had taken up residence in the village of La'trec. Bodies, both Sardis and Ti'hi alike, littered the ground; the blood that had drained from the corpses frozen into the snow where they'd fallen. Some of the dead villagers had weapons in their hands; but most did not. The dead soldiers had been armed, as had their enemies, as evidenced by the number of different armaments strewn around their remains. From the aftermath, it appeared the battle had been intense and brutal.

In addition to the inhabitants, Deanna also saw a number of slaughtered animals throughout the town. Most had been killed in their pens, but it appeared that some people had tried to open the gates so the animals could escape. Deanna caught the sight of two Sardis children, cut down near one of the pens. The boy still had his hand on the latch for the gate. He didn't appear much older than the Empress back at the capital. She quickly looked away.

Weary soldiers moved about the remains of the town. Deanna was touched by the special care they took while handling the bodies of the villagers and their fellow soldiers. So far, she had yet to see anyone attend the dead Ti'hi raiders.

"Deanna?" Riker soothed into her ear. "Are you alright?"

"So much pain and death and for what?" she grumbled. "For what?"

Riker didn't answer. Neither did Worf. Troi was glad. Her statement didn't require an answer. She didn't believe there was one.

A short way down the main road, they came to what remained of the village pub. Approximately twenty villagers were assembled in a tight group. They ranged from very young to extremely old. Troi observed one woman holding a bundled infant close to her chest. An older woman had a comforting arm draped over the younger woman's shoulders. They swayed a little from side to side.

When Prazak approached, three soldiers came forward. "Where is your Commander?" Prazak asked. To Troi, Prazak's tone indicated he already knew the answer.

One of the soldiers lowered his eyes. He was young, probably in his twenties, depending on how they aged. His eyes were exhausted and the side of his face was caked with dried blood. "Our Commander is dead. Killed in the fighting. I guess that leaves me in command, sir."

Troi felt the young man's sadness. Prazak glanced back at her for a brief second; she saw in his eyes that he could feel it too.

Placing a hand on the man's shoulder, Prazak made the young soldier look at him. "What is your name?"

The soldier raised his head a little. "Rostlan, sir."

"Where is La'trec's governess, Sergeant Rostlan?" Prazak's eyes had moved from the soldier to the assembled group, but he kept his hand on the man.

"Out cataloguing our dead," the old woman comforting the mother and babe replied. She inclined her head to one of the young children who then scurried off to find the person in question.

The group waited for a time until the child returned. With him was General Herschel and a middle aged woman. Her clothing matched that of most of the villagers, but Troi noted the fabric was a touch finer and a bit sturdier than what most of the others wore. Her hair was thick and her facial features a mixture of beauty and scorn. Deanna surmised the woman was one of the nobility that Prazak had mentioned earlier, but living out beyond the confines of Sardis Proper had hardened the woman.

She bowed slightly to Prazak. "General."

He bowed in return. "Lady Wen. I am sorry to arrive under such horrible circumstances."

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes wandered to the Starfleet officers then back to Prazak. "They attacked in the night. From what we can gather a small contingent moved in first and killed the sentries at the outposts. Once clear, they infiltrated and began burning and killing."

"We assembled our forces as quickly as possible," Rostlan stated. "But in the chaos the Ti'hi gained the advantage. We lost over two-thirds of our company. Either dead or wounded."

"How did you regain the upper hand?" Herschel asked.

"Sheer determination," Wen answered. "No one wanted to die."

"The prisoners?" Prazak asked next.

Rostlan and his soldiers left. While they waited, Troi took a step forward. "What do you plan to do?"

Prazak's eyes narrowed. If he felt Troi's question was out of place, he did not voice it.

The governess, however, did. "Who are these people?"

"Guests of the Empress," Prazak replied.

"They are from the ship."

Troi turned to the voice. A boy pushed his way through the gaggle of bleary eyed onlookers. Prazak looked at the boy. "Tega?"

Tega jutted his chin into the air when the General addressed him. "Yes, General."

"Where is your sister? Your father?" Prazak questioned.

Troi felt a slight wave of sorrow in the boy, but he kept his composure as he replied, "Father was gravely wounded when the Ti'hi burned our farm. He got Feliya and I out safely, but he was very badly burned in the process. We do not know if he will make it. Feliya is with him now."

"There are only a few buildings left standing, General." Wen sighed. "We have set up them up as makeshift aid stations."

"I can send word to Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher," Riker offered. "We'll assist however we can."

Prazak glanced at Riker, but did not agree or disagree. Wen was studying the group with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. Troi felt the woman's apprehension.

Just then, Rostlan and his soldiers returned. With them were two Ti'hi captives. Their arms were bound behind their backs and they stumbled as the soldiers pushed them forward. They kept their heads low. A few of the onlookers began to sneer and some shouted and spat at the creatures. They were brought before Prazak and forced to kneel. Their heads remained bowed.

Prazak raised his arms and gestured for quiet. When the crowd quieted down, he looked to Wen. "These are the only prisoners?"

"Yes," the woman replied with an angered grunt. "The rest are either dead or managed to flee."

Troi was assaulted by a sense of dread. It took her a moment to realize it was coming from the captives. When she looked towards them, she saw they were stealing glances at Prazak then lowering their heads back down. They shook with fear and began mumbling over and over. Their skittish behavior reminded her of how the guards in the underground caves had reacted when Prazak appeared…moments before he had killed them.

"Will, they're terrified," Deanna whispered.

When Prazak drew his longsword, the terror of the captives intensified. Troi was almost blinded by the onslaught.

 _What are you doing?_ She projected to Prazak's mind, the link they'd shared earlier allowing her to do so.

 _Dispensing justice._ Prazak answered without looking at her.

"Will, this isn't right," Troi mouthed to Riker.

"You're going to execute them?" Riker blurted out. "Why? They are prisoners!"

"Do not interfere, Commander!" Prazak pointed back at him with his free hand.

"This is wrong," Riker countered. "Look at them! They're terrified!"

General Herschel stepped between them. "They are scared because they know what is to happen to them. They had no reservations about killing unarmed people earlier. Only now, when faced with their own deaths do they cower."

The Ti'hi started chanting louder. A soldier pushed one forward into the snow, but it didn't stop the chants.

"What are they saying?" Troi asked.

Herschel raised an eyebrow. "You've heard those words before? When you were held captive?"

All three of the Starfleet officers nodded.

Herschel smirked a little. "Roughly translated, their words are 'The Specter that Walks'."

"What does that mean?"

"It is what they call Prazak." Herschel smiled. "You see, these Ti'hi, they are young. They have never seen General Prazak before. He is like a myth to them. A man that moves like a ghost. And ghosts cannot be killed because they are already dead. When you were children, did your parents ever tell you stories about monsters in order to keep you in line? That is what Prazak is for many of these young Ti'hi."

"He's their boogeyman." Riker frowned.

"Yes." Herschel grinned. "But in this case, the boogeyman is very real."

"Klingon children are not afraid of a boogeyman," Worf snorted.

"Perhaps not," Herschel replied evenly. "There is a rumor that when a Ti'hi becomes old enough to fight, they are told that if they are the one that can kill The Specter that Walks then they shall absorb his life force and his ability to speak to the Davnora cats. I must say it is a rather odd belief, but as you can see, none have ever succeeded." Herschel chuckled a little to himself at the last part.

"He cannot speak to the cats," Troi replied.

Herschel shrugged. "Some believe he can. Even some in Sardis believe that. Again. Strange."

"So you're not immortal," Riker quipped.

"No one ever said we were, Commander." Herschel smirked.

"So how then? How have you survive and stopped aging?" was Riker's next question.

Herschel smiled and waved a finger at him. "You ask too many questions."

"We are only curious," Troi said in an attempt to placate the man. "But what's more important at the moment is this." She waved at Prazak who hovered next to the prisoners. It was clear he'd been listening to the conversation between his friend and the others.

"This is our business, not yours," Prazak spat.

"Is it necessary to kill these captives?" Riker inquired.

"Why do you defend them?" Lady Wen spat towards the group. While Herschel was talking, the noblewoman had stepped closer.

"We're not defending them," Troi replied. "But is this justice?"

Wen sneered, her hands balling into fists on her hips.

"Silence! I've heard enough banter," Prazak growled at the group. To Rostlan he ordered, "Tell us their crimes."

Rostlan cleared his throat. "These two were captured in the home of a farmer. They killed Mikhail, who could not defend himself due to an injury he sustained last winter in a farming accident. But he tried. They murdered him then terrified his wife, son and little babe. There had been a third in the house. It was on top of Lena, Mikhail's wife…assaulting her. Sexually. We pulled it off of her and killed it straight away. Then these two threw down their weapons and surrendered. They claim to have information."

Prazak motioned towards the crowd. Troi shuddered against the cold as the woman with the infant stepped forward. She stood next to Prazak, her eyes focused on the General's chest armor, refusing to look at the captives.

The woman's eyes were vacant, hollow. Her emotions scattered and disjointed. Troi interpreted the woman's feelings as a mix of fear and shame, but she also felt something else from her. Troi felt comfort. Relief. The closer the woman was to Prazak, the safer she felt.

Lowering his head, Prazak spoke to the woman. "The one that violated you, is he also the one that murdered your husband?"

The silence that engulfed the scene was immense. Even the wind gone quiet. The Ti'hi had stopped their chants. Troi held her breath, as did every other person present. All eyes were on Prazak and the woman.

"Yes, General," The woman, Lena, replied meekly. "Mikhail tried to fight them, but his arm…then I just wanted them to stay away from the children."

"What did these two do?" he asked next.

Lena shook her head. "Nothing. They just stood by and watched. I assume they were…waiting their turn."

Sword still held in one hand, Prazak used his other to gently push the ends of the baby's blanket bundle open. He smiled at the child then placed his index and middle finger on the baby's forehead. When he mumbled, the universal translator did not decipher his words.

Tilting his head to look into the woman's eyes, Prazak nodded then closed the bundle. Lena smiled wearily. "Thank you, General."

"Do not be ashamed," Prazak offered. "You did nothing wrong."

Lena sniffed then nodded a little.

Deanna felt a rush of anger from Prazak. But as suddenly as it appeared it vanished. Then there was nothing. No emotions at all. If Troi didn't know better, she would have assumed he'd put up a barrier, but the change was too quick, even for him. He just didn't feel anything at the moment.

With a nod and a gesture, Prazak motioned for the woman to return to the crowd. When she did, he moved to the first captive.

"Don't," Troi whispered, but it was so faint she wasn't even sure she'd said the word out loud.

Grabbing the Ti'hi by the back of the neck, Prazak dragged him away from the other one. The creature struggle, uselessly, but when Prazak slammed him face first down into the snow, the Ti'hi must have accepted his fate. He stopped struggling.

"You've committed crimes against innocent, unarmed people. You murdered. You stood by as one of your comrades committed rape. You've been accused and found guilty. What do you have to say for yourself, creature?"

Prazak lifted the Ti'hi up out of the snow so he was kneeling again. He did not respond to Prazak's declaration or his question. He just hung his head, resigned to his impending death.

"So be it." With a swift, fluid motion, Prazak stepped back, set his feet, and then lifted his sword over his head. "Death is your punishment."

 _Wait!_ Deanna pushed out to Prazak's mind.

To her surprise, Prazak paused. Sword still held over his head, he cocked his head to look at Troi. _This is our law. What they did was not combat. It was criminal. Death is the sentence._

 _Show them mercy._

 _They deserve no mercy,_ he replied into her mind.

 _Then your war shall never end. Show them mercy now. The one that committed the act already paid with its life. Spare these two and show them you are not what they think you are._

That seemed to work. She watched as Prazak pressed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he lowered his sword.

"What is this?" Wen demanded.

"Have we not seen enough death for one day?" Prazak sighed.

"They are guilty!" Wen countered.

Troi stole a glance towards General Herschel. He had a hand on the hilt of his own sword, "General Prazak has authority per the Empress to commute a death sentence, Lady Wen."

Wen's nose curled upward. "Yes, but still,-"

Prazak's booming voice interrupted the governess. "Did anyone witness either of these two creatures committing crimes? Murdering, looting, raping? Did they slaughter any animals?"

No one answered. Even with their desire for revenge, the villagers did not appear willing to lie in order to see the Ti'hi killed.

He addressed the Ti'hi next. "You claim to have information."

"Yes, sire," the first creature croaked. "You are kind to spare us. We did not murder or rape anyone. We killed no animals. We are only lowly ones. We were not allowed-"

"I do not care about your rank or position," Prazak abruptly interrupted.

The creature sniveled a little. "Yes, forgive me, sire."

"I have not made my final decision in regards to your fate. However, I may spare your lives if you tell me what you know of who ordered the attack on this village," Prazak declared. "Do not lie to me. I will know if you are lying. Tell me the truth or you shall be executed."

The second creature, the smaller of the two, shrunk backwards.

"Speak!" Prazak boomed.

Troi gasped. She saw Riker shake his head a little. Worf was standing by, watching with an expressionless demeanor.

Troi wanted to speak, but could not find her voice. Prazak was moving to the second creature. He wrapped his left hand around the Ti'hi's throat and lifted the creature off the ground. She may have been able to stop him from killing the creatures, however his rage had returned and he used it now to intimidate the captives.

"Tell me the truth! Who sent you to this village?" he shouted in the creature's face. "Tell me!"

The Ti'hi struggled as its eyes looked away from the General. It nodded vigorously and Prazak released it to fall into the snow. Gasping for air, it looked at the Starfleet officers and said, "Our Chieftain, but there is another. He looks like them."

Prazak hesitated. "What?"

"It is true, sire," the other one threw in. "A man. Like them. Like you, sire."

"I told you not to lie to me," Prazak growled.

"We do not lie," the second one said. "We do not! You said you can tell. You can tell we are not lying. Please, spare us. We speak the truth. Our Chieftain sent us here to kill the farmers that led you to the Chieftain at the Frozen Lake. But there is a strange man too. We are prohibited from seeing him. The Chieftain keeps him hidden. But he is there. We know it."

Troi felt Riker and Worf staring at her. Prazak took a step back. He looked between Lady Wen and Troi. "They are telling the truth."

Troi nodded. "Yes."

"What is this?" Prazak sneered as he stalked over to the Starfleet officers. His sudden movement seemed to even catch Herschel off guard. "What are these Ti'hi saying?"

"It appears our guests may not be telling the truth after all." Lady Wen chuckled.

Troi shook her head. "No."

But it was Riker that appeared to figure it out. "The distress beacon."

"What?" Prazak turned his head towards Riker.

"Think about it, General." Riker stood tall. "The beacon. You say its coordinates are within Ti'hi territory. What if, whoever was on that ship, was captured by the Ti'hi, just like we were?"

"Another prisoner? Or working with the Ti'hi?" Prazak growled.

"I don't know," Riker replied. "The only way we will know is by finding the beacon."

Prazak snorted, puffs of frigid breath funneling out of his nostrils. With a snarl, he turned away and headed back to the Ti'hi prisoners.

He placed the tip of his sword against the underside of the smaller, weaker Ti'hi. Lifting the creatures head, he stared into its eyes. Loud enough for all to hear, he stated, "The two of you shall remain in our custody. At this time I order you to assist my soldiers in the clean-up of this village. You shall only touch your own dead. If you are caught pilfering the corpses of our deceased, you shall be executed on the spot. Is that clear?"

Both of the creatures nodded vigorously.

Prazak continued, "You shall assist my soldiers with removing your dead. You will pile them outside of the village, at a place designated by my soldiers. Once all your dead are collected, you shall burn them. If you disobey any order given by any of my soldiers, you will be executed on the spot. Is that clear?"

Again the Ti'hi nodded.

Keeping his sword against the creature's throat, Prazak looked to the soldiers. "Sergeant Rostlan, you are hereby promoted to Commander of the La'trec outpost."

Rostlan stood rigid. "Yes, General."

"These Ti'hi are under your charge. See to it that they follow my orders to the letter."

"Yes, General," the man responded.

"Once they have completed their tasks, mark them. Then take them beyond the Frozen Lake, to the Wastelands. Once there, release them."

"What?" Lady Wen gasped.

Prazak ignored the woman. To the Ti'hi he said, "You will be marked. If you are ever caught fighting, pilfering, killing, or raping, you will be executed on the spot. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sire. Thank you. You are merciful," the creature without the blade to his throat said.

At that, Prazak pulled his blade back, and slid it into his sheath. "Yes, I am merciful. Tell your fellow Ti'hi that today, General Prazak was merciful. However, my mercy is not without limits. Rise up against me or the people of Sardis and you shall forfeit your heads to me. Tell your people that I am no ghost. I am no Specter. I am very real. And if you continue to test me, if you continue to attack and murder innocents, I shall not rest until I have seen every last one of you dead upon the snow."

The Ti'hi collapsed, groveling as best they could with their hands bound behind their backs. Prazak stepped back then waved at them, "Take them, Commander Rostlan."

Rostlan moved in swiftly, grabbing the sniveling creatures and along with his fellow soldiers, dragged them away.

Prazak was watching them go and when they were gone, he slowly moved his head to stare at Deanna.

The darkness in his eyes made Troi flinch. She heard his voice echo into her mind. _There is your mercy, Deanna._

 _You did the right thing_ , she offered back.

 _We shall see. We shall see._

* * *

The return trip had been excruciatingly quiet. No one had said a word and from the black scowl that Prazak had worn the entire trip, Riker wasn't going to attempt to speak to the man, even if there was something to say.

So when the vehicles returned to the capital city, Riker was thankful for the noise that filtered in from the maintenance bay the moment the ramp was lowered.

Exiting the vehicle, Riker was pleased to see Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher waiting for them.

"Number One," Picard exhaled. "Good to see you're back safe and sound."

"Not for long, Captain," Riker stated. With a nod to Prazak, who was standing with the group, Riker explained, "We think there might be at least one survivor from the crashed shuttlecraft."

"Explain," Picard ordered.

When Prazak didn't speak, Riker relayed to the Captain what had transpired at the village.

Picard glanced between his First Officer and the General. He addressed Prazak. "Your Empress has stated that you will help us locate the beacon. And it seems it is even more imperative that we do so. If there are survivors we must find them."

"A storm approaches, Captain," Prazak replied as he puffed out his chest. "We cannot travel there until it clears. It is too dangerous."

"If one of our people is being held captive," Picard started.

Prazak held up a hand. "I will not risk my soldiers. We shall leave at first light, once the storm is gone. It is my understanding that this beacon is old, yes?"

Riker nodded. "It is."

"Which means they have been here for some time," Prazak replied. "What is one more night?"

"If it was one of yours?" Worf questioned with a bit of a growl.

Prazak's eyes narrowed to slits. A moment later his head nodded a bit and a small smile spread across his face. "Very well. I will gather a small attack force. Be prepared to depart within two hours. I must report to the Empress."

* * *

Heading back from the tower, Prazak couldn't suppress the ball of dread that sat like a rock in his gut. In the past, he'd never fretted about going into battle, but something about this impromptu search and rescue made him hesitate. A feeling that something bad was going to happen. Something he just couldn't avoid. Tarina, still weary of Picard, had stated she believed it was in the best interest of Sardis to help Starfleet find the beacon so they would leave. And if, when they departed, they tried to detain Prazak, Herschel, and Marking, the last remaining augments, Tarina had assured Andrej that Sardis would stop that from happening, even if it meant going to battle against Picard.

 _Whatever happens –_

His internal thought was cut off as he rounded the corner and came face to face with Lady Sa. Standing with her hands on her hips, Prazak couldn't help but smirk at the thought of her ruffling her precious gown. The scowl on her face did little to obscure her natural beauty, but Prazak still found it unattractive.

With a scoff, Sa stepped directly into his path. "I looked for you last night."

"I was occupied," he responded while attempting to step around her.

Sa stepped with him, blocking his way. "So the rumor goes."

With an eye roll, Prazak replied, "I do not care about rumors. I am extremely busy and my soldiers await me."

Sa didn't budge. "You spent the night with the woman from the starship, didn't you?"

Now Prazak felt himself getting angry. Pushing it down, he frowned. "My business is no concern of yours. Or anyone else's for that matter."

"It is my business, Andrej," Sa retorted. "Or have you so quickly set me aside for her?"

"I really do not have time for this conversation," Prazak moaned. "Let me pass. Or should I report to the Empress that I was delayed in carrying out her orders because of you?"

That got the woman moving. She pivoted and stepped aside. But before Prazak could take a step, she said, "She will leave you, Andrej."

Turning his head, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Excuse me?"

"You think you love her, but she doesn't love you."

He responded with a humorless laugh. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Lady Sa? It is unbecoming of you."

"She will leave. And when she does, you will either be dead or alone. And as I do not want to see you dead, I will wait for you to come back to me."

"You sound so certain of yourself." Prazak smirked. "I did not know the nobility possessed foresight as well telepathic abilities."

Sa huffed. "Joke all you want, Andrej, but what you fail to realize is that I do care about you. I do love you. She does not. She will leave with her starship. And when she does, I will be here to comfort you. I can forgive what you did with her last night."

Prazak knew a trap when he saw one. "And what exactly did I do last night?"

Sa shook her head. "Do not play this game with me, Andrej. You know exactly what you did. As do I. You forget that our connection is stronger than most."

Prazak's eyes turned to slits. "You invade my mind without my permission?"

Sa smiled a little. "Of course not. I do not need to resort to such drastic measures when your feelings for the Starfleet woman are plain as day on your face. I am surprised her companions have not picked up on it. But you do know that I can sense you, even from afar."

Prazak sighed heavily. "Whatever you think, Sa, just know,-"

Stepping forward, she cut off his words by pressing her mouth to his. Caught off guard, Prazak hesitated, his hands hovering at his sides. But Sa wasn't giving up. Pushing forward, she leaned her body into his, guiding him back, forcing him to step backwards. When his back bumped into the opposite wall of the short corridor, Sa ran her hands behind his neck and pressed her body flush against his, all the while continuing to drive her kiss deeper and deeper. She moaned against his lips.

The moan snapped Prazak back to reality. Pulling back, he blinked and placed his hands on her hips, pushing her back to keep her at arm's length.

"Andrej?" Sa whined seductively. But he could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't pleased.

Shaking his head, Prazak stated, "I have a mission. I cannot be distracted."

Sa pouted.

Letting go of the woman, Prazak sidestepped his way around her. "I'm sorry."

Sa nodded a little. Not wanting to waste any more time, Prazak turned to go.

Once again Sa called out to him. "When we kissed were you thinking about her?"

Stopping in his tracks, Andrej looked back over his shoulder. "I do not know what to think anymore, Lady Sa."

"Just remember, General, I'll be waiting for you when you return." she winked. "I'll always wait for you."

Without another word, Prazak looked away from the woman and picked up his pace. He was already delayed more than he'd wanted, but the need to put distance between himself and Lady Sa was so great that he had to force himself not to actually run.

By the time he'd reached the bay, he'd forced all thoughts of Sa out of his mind, but the moment he set eyes on Troi, he couldn't help the thoughts that popped briefly into his head.

 _Focus. You need to concentrate on the mission. And do not forget they still want to take you back to Earth. They are not your friends. Perhaps Sa is right. Perhaps it is best you stay with her and forget about Deanna._

Shaking his head, Prazak stopped when Herschel intercepted him, Zoja padding along at his side. "I've assembled a team." He handed Andrej a datapad. "We'll take three vehicles. Marking already left to set up a perimeter. Based on the terrain and the weather, we'll have to move in on foot once we reach the edge of the forest."

Prazak was glad to be back to military tactics. "How far?"

"Approximately five kilometers west and two north from where Marking is setting up his base of operations based on the last readout of the Starfleet beacon," Herschel stated. "I've assembled twelve volunteers. Marking took eight scouts with him. We actually had to turn some away, but I left them with orders to remain on standby in the event we need reinforcements."

Prazak nodded approvingly. "Is everyone ready?"

Herschel scratched the back of his neck. "Yes. The Starfleet personnel…"

"What about them?" Prazak questioned.

Captain Picard stepped up to the two men. Immediately Prazak noted the Captain was dressed in winter clothing. "We are going with you, General."

Prazak didn't hide his displeasure. "Captain, this is a dangerous mission. We are moving into territory that we haven't been to in a number of years."

"All the more reason to have extra people," Commander Riker said as he came to stand next to his Captain.

Prazak handed the pad back to Herschel. "If there is a battle, I cannot guarantee your safety."

"As the _Enterprise_ 's Chief of Security, it is my responsibility to keep the Captain safe," Worf declared. He was wearing the sword Prazak had given him after their sparring match.

"General, I understand your apprehensions," Picard remarked. "However, you are going on a mission on our behalf. I would not request such an endeavor and then sit back in the comfort of safety. Also, if any Starfleet personnel are being held captive, we can help alleviate any fears those people may have upon seeing even more armed soldiers."

Prazak ran his fingers along the underside of his chin, itching his stubble. "Seeing a familiar face."

Picard nodded. "Exactly."

"Also," Doctor Crusher threw in, "Starfleet is made up of races from many different worlds. I have no doubt your people are skilled in treating trauma, but if faced with an unknown lifeform that is in need of aid, I can perform the necessary medical procedures much faster than you or your people."

Prazak motioned to one of the soldiers then pointed at the Starfleet officers. The soldier nodded. Quickly, he along with a female soldier, grabbed a crate and carried it over. The dropped the box with an audible thud against the floor; it was filled with swords. They left then returned with another that had chest and back armor inside.

Nodding at the weapons crate, Prazak smiled. "Your phasers do not work here. I hope Lieutenant Worf is not the only Starfleet Officer skilled in the use of such weaponry."

"We can make do," Picard said as he picked up on of the swords.

From the corner of his eye, Prazak shot Herschel a look. His friend simply shrugged in response.

"Stay close to myself and my soldiers," Prazak ordered. "But if you must defend yourselves, then do so. Remember, the Ti'hi will not care that you are not from Sardis."

Herschel handed one of the swords to Riker. "They'll kill you as quickly as they would any other. Aim for their necks or lower torso. If they wear armor, look for exposed points, usually beneath the arms. Their hide and skeletal systems are thick and strong. You have to use force."

"And do not forget," Prazak added. "They had no qualms about stabbing the Kindly One in the back. They will undoubtedly attempt to do the same to you if you give them a chance."

"No honor," Worf growled.

"Exactly, Lieutenant." Prazak nodded. "Now, I suggest we go find your lost comrades."

* * *

 **To Be Continued…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I apologize for the delay. I've been very busy at work and had little time for reviewing and editing. But now things have calmed down and I can get back to this fic! I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you!**

 **Guest: Sorry for the delay, but here is the next chapter!**

* * *

When the vehicle came to a stop, Picard took the opportunity to glance at his people. Even though they were clearly exhausted, they looked determined. For a moment he thought that perhaps it would be best if they stayed at the perimeter, but he knew if he suggested it none would accept. With the exception of Lt. Worf, none of the team were overly skilled with the weapons they'd been provided, which could prove challenging in what could possibly transpire. Picard could fence, but fencing required more finesse and usually was only a two-person dual. Straight forward melee style combat was intrinsically different.

He decided to at least give them the opportunity. "I have no issues if any of you need to stay here and believe me, it would not be held against any of you."

Each of his officers shook their heads in refusal, just as Picard knew they would. With a nod, he said, "Understood."

He caught Prazak studying him. The General had removed his cloak, but wore both his swords on his belt. His cat was next to him. As the ramp to the vehicle lowered, the augment kept his eyes locked on Picard.

And when the ramp thudded into the snow, Prazak rolled his shoulders. "Follow me." He turned and exited without another word. Zoja followed.

Darkness made the air feel even colder. Stepping out of the vehicle, Picard willed his body not to shiver. It was difficult, but be maintained his composure.

They'd arrived at the edge of a forest. The trees, a species similar to oaks, were crusted with ice and snow. Peering beyond, all Picard saw was darkness.

His mind conjured up images of old Earth fairy tales where evil and magical beings alike existed in places such as these. Picard couldn't help wondering if they'd stumble upon some forgotten trail of bread crumbs or a ramshackle house inhabited by an ancient witch. The thought made him smirk.

Glancing about, Picard saw a few soldiers moving silently between the vehicles. He assumed the ones that had arrived earlier were somewhere nearby. Or else that had already moved ahead to scout.

He got his answer when the third augment, Colonel Marking, appeared from the darkened wood line to join his friends.

Inclining his head, Picard motioned for the rest of his crew to follow. A few steps later, they joined the three augments.

"What have you discovered, Colonel?" Prazak was asking in a hushed tone.

Even in the dark, Picard could see the scowl on the shorter man's face. "I took two scouts with me to the coordinates they provided." He nodded a little at Picard and his people. "There's nothing there."

"That can't be." Riker scoffed. "Are you sure you looked in the right place?"

Marking's scowl deepened. "Are you questioning my abilities and those of my scouts, Commander?"

Prazak turned to look at Riker, then directed his words to Picard. "Colonel Marking is the Scouts' Commander for a reason, Captain. He and his people are the best."

"So we do nothing then?" Picard asked with a huff. "I cannot accept that."

"I did not say that, Captain." Prazak gestured at his friends. "We will take you there to see for yourself."

"Thank you, General." Picard nodded.

"We move out in five minutes. Be ready." Prazak stepped away from the Starfleet officers; Herschel and Marking following right behind.

Picard eyed the three men for a moment then turned back to his team. "Thoughts?"

"I do not like it," Worf growled. "However, we must do what we must."

Picard nodded. "Agreed. Everyone stick close."

Riker added to the Captain's words. "Watch each other's backs. We're still not entirely sure if these men are as trustworthy as they've made themselves appear to be."

"They did give us weapons." Dr. Crusher pointed out.

"Still be cautious." Riker frowned.

Picard turned to Counselor Troi. "Deanna?"

Troi blinked and turned her eyes to Picard. He noted that she had been watching the augments. "I'm still inclined to trust them, Captain."

Riker opened his mouth to protest, but Picard stopped him with a raised hand.

Deanna continued. "I agree, they are not happy about being out here right now, but I do not sense any malice or nefarious intents from any of them. What I do sense is an uneasiness amongst them in regards to us. Almost as if they believe that no matter what they do, we'll still try to detain them. It's the strongest with Prazak, however he's more concerned about the well-being of his friends than his own."

"I wonder why a man that has a sense of duty and loyalty so ingrained into his psyche cannot seem to understand our position," Riker quipped. "He's a military man after all. He should understand following orders."

Deanna sighed heavily, shaking her head.

Picard assimilated the information. Prazak returned. Slowly he unsheathed both his swords. The deliberate movements ensuring neither made a sound as they came free. Flipping the longsword in his palm, Picard assumed he did it for show, Prazak pursued his lips together. "Take a moment and breathe deeply. Inhale through your noses."

Brow furrowed, Picard did as Prazak instructed. When he exhaled he looked at Prazak.

"Do you smell it?" Prazak asked.

Picard glanced as his officers. Each nodded. Picard's nose curled a little. "Yes. It's faint, but foul."

"It is the Ti'hi," Prazak replied. "The Ti'hi and their beasts. They are here. In the forest. Once we enter the woods, do not make a sound. Do not wander off. Stay with the group. If you stray, we cannot protect you. Understand?"

Picard kept his eyes locked on the General. "Yes."

Prazak spun his sword in his grip again and smiled a little. "Then follow me."

* * *

When they reached the site, Prazak went down to one knee, crossing his blades in front of him as he did. He had Marking on his right side and Captain Picard on his left. Herschel and the Starfleet officers were close behind them and the rest of the soldiers spread out to take up observation positions. Zoja had remained at the vehicles with the perimeter guards.

For that Prazak was glad. He still hadn't shaken the feeling of dread. Even without her armor, Zoja was a dangerous beast, but she was just as susceptible as her human and Sardis counterparts to attacks. Andrej hadn't had time to retrieve the cat's armor for her, so when he'd ordered the animal to stay back, she'd whined, but obeyed.

Barely speaking above a whisper, Marking said, "This is the spot."

Prazak nodded as he studied the area. They'd come upon a patch of open space within the forest. His enhanced vision helped him spot a large, frozen over pond stretched out near the far side of where they'd stopped. Covered in snow, the sheen of ice was hidden, but the slight dip of the surrounding shore told Prazak it was definitely a considerable sized body of water. Between the open ground and the pond, a shuttle craft could have landed here at some point, but if it had, it was long gone.

Prazak raised an eyebrow towards Picard. "Captain?"

Picard was frowning while checking his tricorder device. "These are the correct coordinates. I don't understand. The beacon is still active and indicating right here in this vicinity."

Prazak stared back into the darkness. Without turning his head, he asked Marking. "Did you discover any holes?"

"Holes?" Picard wanted to know.

Prazak held back his annoyance. "The Ti'hi prefer to live underground. We rescued your officers from one of their underground caverns. We call them holes."

"No hole is big enough for a shuttle, Andrej," Marking protested.

With a jerk of his chin, Prazak asked, "Could it be beneath the pond?"

"I mean, that's possible," Marking stated. "Highly unlikely, but possible. If that's the case, it'll take more effort to find it and retrieve it."

"What if it's not beneath the water? What if they disassembled it? Scavenged it and took it underground?" Prazak threw back.

"That's not easy," Picard stated.

"They'd have had decades to do it," Prazak remarked. "John, have your scouts spread out and start searching for Ti'hi holes."

Marking nodded and slinked away. Prazak watched him go until he could no longer see his friend in the darkness. The stillness of the forest disturbed him and as he waited quietly, patiently, he found himself once again wondering where his sudden easiness had come from.

Keeping his eyes trained to pick up any movements, he listened for any sounds that could signal an ambush. He heard nothing.

Her voice entered his mind. _Are you nervous?_

Without looking back at the Counselor, he replied, _I am concerned._

 _Captain Picard is a good man. He will do the right thing, Andrej._

 _I do not question his character. He has proven himself honorable. Even by adhering to your higher command's orders. However, as I said, I will not leave this planet under arrest._

 _I will do what I can to help you, Andrej. I promise you that._

 _Do not sacrifice your position for me, Deanna._

 _Do you trust me, Andrej?_

He hesitated in his reply. He needed to choose his words carefully. _It is more than trust._

She didn't answer him. He wondered if he'd gone too far. The night they had spent with each other, he'd said things that perhaps made her uncomfortable. Things above love. Did he really love her? At this point, he wasn't entirely sure that he did not.

 _Don't be a fool,_ he said to himself. _Even if you do, you know Sa was right. Deanna will leave. Cut your losses now and forget about her._

Needing a distraction from his own thoughts, he turned to glance at Picard. The starship Captain was fiddling with his tricorder device.

"How many worlds make up your Federation, Captain?" he asked.

He saw Picard blink. "Hundreds."

Prazak nodded a little. "When I first met Mister Seven, I did not believe he was from another world. Or at least raised and trained on another world by some alien race. How could I? No one believed such things during those times. Not until I saw his traveling device, his servo, and the things he could do did I finally start to believe."

"It took humans much longer to advance before being recognized by otherworldly beings. Some believe that it was the near destruction of Earth during World War III that finally awoke the human race. The Eugenic Wars was the predecessor to that final World War."

"No man is innocent, Captain," Prazak admitted. "However, my intentions were always honorable and in defense of good. Some of us recognized that evil within Khan. We lived it and we vowed to stop it."

Picard's eyes shifted. "Counselor Troi informed me that you showed her things from your past. Reprehensible things that Khan did to you."

"I cannot change the past, Captain," Prazak sighed. "I can only fight to change the future. My people and I were given a second chance after we were forced to flee Earth. A second chance to make positive changes in these people's lives. Unfortunately, the war we found here has never ended. Sure, there have been periods of relative calm, but never ultimate peace."

"I believe your cause is admirable, General," Picard stated quietly. "But why here? Why this planet? Did Seven send you here on purpose?"

"You have many questions, don't you, Captain?" Prazak smirked.

Picard chuckled softly. "That is an understatement."

"In due time, Captain," Prazak remarked. "For now, Colonel Marking has returned."

Prazak smiled inwardly when Picard's eyebrows raised. He obviously had not heard Marking's approach which was testament not only to the Colonel's inherent abilities as an augment, but his skills as a trained scout.

Marking went down to one knee in the snow in front of both men, but directed his report to Prazak. "We found an entrance. They are getting better at hiding them, just like the one by the Frozen Lake where we found the Starfleet officers." He turned his head to look back over his shoulder. "You see that jumble of low hills at the far end of the pond?"

"No," Picard mumbled, pushing his head forward and straining to see.

Prazak smiled at the Captain's attempt. Looking off in the direction indicated, Prazak spotted the hills in question. "Yes, I see them."

"That is their entrance," Marking replied.

"I didn't know augments could see in the dark," Picard chuckled a bit.

"There's a lot about us you do not know," Prazak replied lightly.

"So it would seem," Picard mused.

Prazak returned his attention to his friend, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Good work. What else?"

"It's fairly large," Marking stated, "but not large enough for a shuttlecraft."

"So it's either in the pond or they did scavenge it," Picard said with a hint of astonishment.

Prazak exchanged a look with Marking, who simply shrugged in return. "We're ready to infiltrate whenever you are, Andrej."

Prazak set his jaw. "We'll move in first. Ensure your people are ready to follow."

* * *

The sudden change in temperature and lighting hit Picard like a hammer. Standing next to and a step behind Prazak, he blinked several times to help his eyes focus.

The interior chamber of the cavern was empty, but the stench was strong. The rock walls were relatively smooth, as was the dirt covered floor. As they moved deeper into the underground hideout, Picard noticed spots along the walls were smeared with a blackish sludge. In other areas he saw scraps of tattered rags along the ground. Even bones.

Beverly nudged against his arm, tricorder held out in one hand. "Those bones. I can't identify them."

Prazak's head turned back, a scowl on his face. Between gritted teeth, he hissed, "They are animal bones. Keep the noise down, something feels amiss."

Picard gave Beverly a comforting nod. With a glance back at the rest of his crew, he saw they were all tense. On alert. The other two augments brought up the rear along with three of the soldiers. The rest had remained outside, either at the vehicles on the edge of the forest or just outside the entrance to the Ti'hi caves.

Moving deeper, the tunnel began to widen, opening up into another large chamber. Prazak waved his left arm out, stopping their movements by blocking them with his short sword.

"What does your device say now?" he asked Picard with a hushed tone.

An examination of the tricorder showed Picard the beacon was still transmitting and hadn't moved. Calculating in his head, he nodded across the open cavern. "Approximately two hundred meters straight ahead."

"Stay here." Prazak ordered. He waved Herschel forward. "You and I will traverse ahead."

"Okay." Herschel nodded.

Picard shook his head. "No. We're coming too."

"I appreciate your concern, Captain," Prazak replied. "But this is my operation. Not yours. If the way is clear, we will call you forward."

Picard wasn't hearing it. "Lt. Worf will go with you."

Prazak's eyes traveled between Picard and Worf then back to Picard. "Fine."

* * *

Without making a sound, Prazak moved into the chamber. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. This didn't feel right. He'd never been inside a Ti'hi hole that was so large and vast, yet completely deserted.

"This feels like a trap, Andrej," Herschel whispered.

Prazak nodded and tightened his grips on both his weapons.

"We should move as quickly as possible," Word suggested.

"Agreed," Prazak remarked evenly.

The far reaches of the cavern were cloaked in shadows. As they hurried across the area Prazak kept his head on a swivel. He saw no movement or any other signs that would indicate creatures were lurking just out of their fields of vision. But the feeling of unease remained.

When they reached the wall at the far end, Prazak discovered a door hidden in the crevices. Motioning to Herschel, he indicated what he needed his friend to do. As Herschel moved into position, Prazak pressed his back against the wall. To Worf he said, "Be ready. Follow right behind me."

When Worf gave a curt nod in return, Prazak looked at Herschel. Moving forward, the blonde General raised his leg and bashed his heavy boot into the creases of the door. Even though it was made of stone, Herschel's strength made the door buckle and cave inward as if it was nothing more than a thing sheet of plastic.

Swiftly, Prazak swept into the room. About half the size of the outer chamber, it was lit by a few random torches along the walls.

The first signs of life they'd encountered since entering the hole, lept to their feet at Prazak's entrance.

Two medium sized Ti'hi had been seated at a rotting table. Startled by the sudden entrance, they reached for their weapons and scrambled forward.

Prazak made quick work of the one closet to him. As the creature thrust his crudely made spear towards his midsection, Prazak brought his swords down, catching the shaft of the Ti'hi weapon. Twisting his wrists, the swords snapped the wood in half. Pivoting, Andrej repositioned his feet, closed the distance between himself and his adversary and rammed the cat's head pommel of his longsword into the Ti'hi's nasal cavity. A sickening crunch echoed off the walls as the Ti'hi's bones crushed inward. Flipping the longsword once again, Prazak spun and sliced through the creature's upper arm and halfway through his chest. Blood gushed from the gaping wound as Prazak lifted his boot and rammed it into the deceased creature, freeing his sword from its body as it crumpled to the floor.

Turning towards the other Ti'hi, Prazak paused and lowered his weapons. Worf was currently battling the Ti'hi, who had come at the Klingon with a short sword. Prazak admired the Klingon's skill as he grunted, dropped into a crouch and then brought his blade up between the Ti'hi's legs. The startled creature wailed in agony, but only for a moment, before he hit the ground and died.

With a smirk, Prazak gestured at the corpse with his sword. "Well done."

Worf bared his teeth. "No challenge."

"A few by themselves are not much of a match," Herschel said as he passed between the two men, stepping around the pooling blood. "Its when there are many that the battle becomes noteworthy."

"Spoken like a true intel man." Prazak laughed.

Herschel rolled his eyes as he examined the table where the Ti'hi had been seated. On top of the table were two cups filled halfway with some liquid, metal plates with stinking food, and a handful of small painted rocks.

"What are the rocks?" Worf wanted to know.

"A game," Prazak explained. "They play it to pass the time. Most commonly found among bored foot soldiers and jailers."

"These two appeared to be the latter." Hershel picked up a ring of keys that had fallen to the floor when the Ti'hi had been surprised.

Prazak turned his attention back to the room. The distant end was partially illuminated by the torches, making the swaying shadows dance eerily. Stepping towards the darkness, three more doors came into view. These one, however, were not solid. They had bars set into them where a window would usually be.

The first two were unoccupied, but peering through the last, Prazak saw movement. Something, or someone, huddled in the back corner of the cell.

"Someone's in here," he announced. "Signal Colonel Marking."

Herschel tossed the keys to Worf then moved back to the door he'd kicked in earlier.

As Worf found the appropriate key and jammed it into the cell's lock, Marking and the rest of the Starfleet personnel arrived, along with one of the soldiers arrived. The other two had stayed back to guard the corridor.

Worf pulled the door open and Prazak stepped inside at the same moment that Picard joined him.

"Who are you?" Prazak asked the figure in the native Sardis tongue.

The form didn't respond, but pressed itself further against the wall.

Taking another step forward, Prazak lowered his voice and spoke again. "We won't hurt you. Come out of the dark."

The Starfleet doctor joined them and Prazak moved to the side. He'd not yet sheathed his swords, ready in case this was all an elaborate ruse.

Doctor Crusher tapped on her tricorder. "Jean-Luc, a human. A human male."

Picard glanced towards Prazak and the General simply shrugged. Cautiously, Picard and Crusher moved as one. "We're from Starfleet. We're here to help. We picked up a distress beacon. Did you activate it?"

The man scooted back once more, but then leaned forward. His visage barely visible in the dim light provided by the open cell door. He looked old, perhaps in his late fifties, but it was difficult to tell from the amount of grime that was caked into his face and scraggily hair. He also had a bushy, dirty beard, brown but with a number of streaks of grey.

"Who?" the man's voice was hoarse.

Crusher waved the man forward. "Sir, I'm a doctor. Please come into the light. We won't hurt you. We're here to help you."

"Captain, you need to hurry," Prazak stated through pursed lips. "We're still in enemy territory."

Picard frowned, but nodded. "Beverly?"

The Doctor shook her head.

Picard glanced back over his shoulder. "Counselor?"

Troi took a few steps into the cell and stood next to Prazak. "He's frightened. Terrified." She glanced at teh General. "He's scared of you. Your weapons. You know this."

Prazak huffed. "I will not sheath my weapons until we are safely back to our vehicles. Nor will any of my soldiers. Tell him we will not harm him, Captain."

Again Picard frowned, but directed his attention to the man in the corner. "My name is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship _Enterprise_. You have my word, no one here will harm you. These men are soldiers come to rescue you. They won't hurt you."

Prazak watched as Picard's assurance seemed to get through to the captive. He shuffled forward and pushed himself to his feet. His legs wobbled and Crusher lunged forward to grab the man's arm. His clothing was as filthy as his body and he smelled almost as foul as the creatures that held him prisoner.

"I've got you." Crusher soothed.

Picard grabbed the man's other arm to steady him and lead him towards the exit. "What is your name?"

"Name? I…" the man shook his head.

"Captain, we should hold our questions till we get him out of here," Crusher suggested.

Prazak turned to lead the way, but was stopped when the prisoner yelped and pulled back against the two officers that held him. His eyes went wide and he shook violently as he stared at Prazak.

"Specter," he muttered in fright.

Prazak grunted and stepped out of the room. He had no time to sooth the ravings of a madman whose mind appeared colluded by Ti'hi folklore.

In the chamber, Prazak found his two friends. "It seems they found their missing shuttlecraft operator. We have to get out of here. I still can't shake this foreboding feeling."

"I have the same feeling," Marking grunted.

When the Starfleet personnel stepped out of the cell, Commander Riker stepped in for Picard.

"Let's get out of here," Prazak stated.

"There may be others," Picard protested.

Prazak couldn't hide his annoyance any longer. Yet, before he could speak, the man shook his head. "No others. Only me. I'm all that's left. The others died."

"Where is your ship?" Riker asked.

"No idea," he replied.

"You didn't activate the beacon?" Riker questioned next.

The man shook his head, but said no more as exhaustion seemed to overtake him.

"I don't care about a ship or some damn beacon," Prazak growled. "He says there are no more people. We're leaving. Now."

He didn't wait for any more protests. Spinning on his heel, he motioned to the soldier who immediately took up a position at the door. He peered out, signaled across the expanse then stepped out.

The rest of the group followed. It was slower going with the prisoner, who they kept in the center of the movement, but eventually they crossed the expanse and made it back to the entrance of the hole. They'd yet to see another Ti'hi besides the two that were in the jailers area.

Stepping out into the cold, Prazak moved to the side so the others could exit.

When they were all out, he inclined his chin in the direction of the perimeter where Zoja, the rest of the soldiers, and the vehicles waited. It would be even slower going through the dark forest now that they had the emasculated prisoner to protect.

"Move out," he ordered.

They'd only taken a few steps when the actual attack happened.

* * *

 **To Be Continued….**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I apologize for the delay. I've been very busy at work and had little time for reviewing and editing. But now things have calmed down and I can get back to this fic! I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you!**

* * *

Ti'hi swarmed through the wood line. Sardis soldiers assembled to engage in combat with the invading force. Shouts and grunts, combined with the ringing clangs of steel on steel, replaced the previous quiet and calm of the night.

"Stay close to each other!" Prazak shouted. "Don't let them get behind you!"

A spear, hurled from somewhere off to the left, landed only a couple of paces in front of the group. Prazak watched as Worf strode forward, pulled the spear from where it had stuck in the snow and launched it towards the closet enemy. The force of the throw buried the spear deep into the creature's chest and lifted it from its feet, sending it crashing into a number of its comrades.

"We have to get out of here," Picard shouted over the sounds of combat.

Prazak sneered. A number of Ti'hi foot soldiers advanced. Stepping forward, Prazak engaged the creatures. Even though he was outnumbered four to one, his dual swordsmanship was no match for the smaller creatures and he made quick work of them all, cutting each down without mercy.

Spinning, he saw more and more creatures advancing. His entire force was quickly becoming outnumbered. "Send for the others to advance! Bring the vehicles forward. I don't care if they have to mow down every damn tree! Get them here now!"

Colonel Marking grabbed two soldiers and hurried off in the direction where they'd left the combat transports, hacking and slicing at the Ti'hi that tried to stop them.

More creatures took their shots at Prazak and each one died by the General's hand. Caught up in the combat, Prazak focused on nothing but the battle. His swords flashed. He attacked. Parried. Attacked again. Ti'hi fell all around him. He kept his feet moving, refusing to be rooted in place and trapped by the Ti'hi. More came towards him. If they were afraid, Prazak didn't see it. It was unusual behavior for Ti'hi. Except for the battle at Tega Peak, most Ti'hi would have fled when they saw so many of their fellows die. These ones didn't seem to care.

A pair came forward. One swung a wicked flail over its head as the other lunged with a spear. Prazak sidestepped the thrust from the spear easily enough, but as soon as he did, the one with the flail stepped forward and swung at the General's legs. The spiked ball connected, hitting him in the knee with a sickening thud. Prazak grunted, dropped his short sword, then grabbed onto the chain the connected the ball to its handle. Jerking his arm, he pulled the Ti'hi, who had not let go of his own weapon, straight towards himself. When the startled creature was close, Prazak ripped the ball from his leg while thrusting his longsword into the Ti'hi's neck. The creature gagged as Prazak drew his weapon back.

Now the second creature did hesitate. Prazak didn't give it time to do anything else. Cutting at the Ti'hi's legs, he sliced one limb clean off. The Ti'hi howled as it fell, its thick blood pooling from the wound. Prazak brought the flail up over his head, then smacked the spiked ball into the fallen Ti'hi's face. With a disgusting crunch, the ball caved in the Ti'hi's skull and brains. Prazak didn't bother pulling the flail back. He let go, leaving it lodged in the dead creature's face. Picking up his short sword, he repositioned his weapons and looked about the blood-soaked snow. His knee throbbed and he knew he was bleeding, but his injuries would have to wait.

When he caught sight of Picard and his people, he saw they were mostly in a state of shock. They held the weapons they'd been provided, but except for the Klingon and Commander Riker, the others had not engaged any enemy. The three remaining officers had created a circle around the freed prisoner, but remained rooted in place. Herschel had moved off with the two Starfleet officers to fight.

Sheathing his short sword, Prazak strode forward and grabbed Picard by the upper arm. He gave the man a shake to snap him from his daze. "Move! They won't care if you don't fight back. They'll kill you regardless. Get behind some cover."

Prazak had no idea what time it was, but the sky was beginning to grey, signaling dawn's approach. Regardless, he had to not only keep the off-worlders safe, but end this battle as quickly as possible.

Picard barely budged. With a grunt, Prazak pushed the Captain to get his feet moving. "Come on."

The Captain finally moved. When he did, so did the rest. Guiding them towards a grouping of fallen logs at the edge of the pond Prazak ordered, "Stay here. Protect yourselves as necessary, but stay here."

"Look out!" Troi shouted.

Prazak spun and raised his longsword. A larger Ti'hi had snuck up on the group. It carried a sword with jagged edges and was swinging it in a downward arc towards the General.

Prazak countered, but his sword slipped off the creature's blade as it connected with Prazak's upper right leg, biting into the armor he wore there. The blow caused him to stagger. He dropped to his undamaged knee.

The Ti'hi grinned, drool pouring from its oversized lower mandible. It raised its sword over its head to strike. Prazak brought his sword up to deflect the blow, but the attack never came.

The Ti'hi's wicked eyes bulged and its body convulsed. Its mouth opened, but the only sound it made was a pained squeal. Prazak watched as the blood covered blade of a sword burst from the creature's gut a moment before it jerked upward through the Ti'hi's body then disappeared. The blade slipped harmlessly from the creature's hands as fell to the side, already dead before it hit the snow.

Standing a few paces behind where the creature was Lt. Worf. Prazak smirked as the Klingon held out his hand to the General. "Thanks."

Worf pulled him to his feet. "I do not intend to die today, General."

"That makes two of us," Prazak replied.

"You're bleeding," Troi stated with worry.

Prazak waved it off, ignoring the warmth on his skin caused by his own blood. "I'm fine."

"He's come," the prisoner mumbled. Huddled down between Troi and Crusher the man's eyes stared out into the battle.

Prazak and Worf both turned at the same time.

Standing off at the edge of the field was the largest and most gruesome Ti'hi Prazak had ever seen. Completely muscled from head to toe, it wore clothing only around its lower half. It had no armor. A large warhammer with a ghastly spike on one end was cradled in its arms. Seated at its side was a snarling beast with a massive maw full of razor sharp teeth, yellowed claws on the ends of its gigantic paws, and black, grey fur matted around its body.

With a snort, the creature took a step forward. Two brave soldiers went to strike, but were killed instantly with one massive back and forth swing of the hammer. Even across the distance of the battlefield, Prazak could hear the sickening crunches of the men's skulls being caved in. The Ti'hi's hell hound companion pounced on one of the fallen men.

The Ti'hi, leaving its animal behind, headed for a group of Sardis soldiers that were locked in a struggle with a handful of snarling enemy. With them was General Herschel and Commander Riker.

"Commander!" Worf shouted as he took off in a sprint towards the fray.

"Stay here!" Prazak ordered over his shoulder and followed behind Worf, drawing his short sword again as he ran, all pain in his knee and upper leg gone.

Side by side Prazak and Worf fought their way forward, cutting down smaller Ti'hi that moved to intercept the duo.

Prazak kept his eyes on the large Ti'hi as it swung its warhammer at the soldiers. Lowering a shoulder, he rammed the Ti'hi closest to him to the snow. Before it could recover, he stabbed it through the neck. Without a second glance at the corpse, he pushed forward into the thick of the battle with the apparent leader of the Ti'hi. Pivoting he placed himself between the creature and the others, drawing its attention towards himself. Prazak was not a small man by any means, but the Ti'hi made him look inferior. But if Prazak knew anything it was how to use size as an advantage.

The Ti'hi stopped where it was, just out of the reach of Prazak's longsword.

With a sneer Prazak barked, "Fight _me_ , you coward!"

The Ti'hi laughed; its hissing drool burning against the snow as it made contact. "Today I shall end your reign, General Prazak. And then Sardis Proper and its people shall be ours for the taking."

Prazak lunged forward then pulled to the side as the creature raised its warhammer over its head then brought it down in a chop. The ground shook from the impact of the weapon. With a howl, the Ti'hi pulled the hammer up then swung for Prazak's side. The weapon found its mark, denting the side of his armor.

"You are no match for me, fool," the Ti'hi spat.

The impact rattled Prazak's bones and he knew immediately some of his ribs were broken, yet he stayed on his feet. When the Ti'hi swung again, Prazak crouched under the warhammer and moved closer to his combatant. With a swipe at the creature's legs, he knocked the Ti'hi down to its back. Moving quickly, Prazak popped back up and positioned himself to deliver a fatal blow that would end the fight before it barely started.

But the Ti'hi recovered and thrust his boot upward and into Prazak's jaw. The General's head snapped back and he fell.

When the Ti'hi scrambled back to his feet, he whistled. The snarling dog-like animal responded to its master's call and went straight for Prazak. Lifting his arm to protect himself from the attack, Prazak stopped the animal from tearing into his throat, but the beast latched on to his arm. Prazak sneered and bit back the pain, but he couldn't get his other arm up to stab the animal.

"Fiend!" Worf shouted from somewhere off to his right.

Prazak, twisting and turning in the snow, trying to loosen the dog's bite, watched as both the Starfleet officers and Herschel attacked the Ti'hi as it stood watching its animal chew on Prazak's arm.

With a grunt, the creature tried to raise its weapon, but was overpowered by the three men. When it couldn't attack with its warhammer, the Ti'hi let go of the weapon, reached forward and snagged Riker by the throat. The Starfleet Commander was lifted off the ground, dropping his weapon as his hands went to his neck in a futile attempt to pry the creature's hands away.

Worf stabbed the Ti'hi in its ribs as Herschel attacked from the other side. Howling the Ti'hi dropped Riker, pushed Worf away like he was nothing more than an annoying gnat then snagged Herschel's arm. From somewhere behind his back, the creature drew a curved dagger and stabbed General Herschel in his lower back, just beneath his armor plate. Herschel's body arched and the Ti'hi tossed him aside.

Prazak watched with horror as his friend was hurled a good distance out onto the frozen pond, the ice cracking beneath the augment's weight.

Just when the battle seemed lost and the Ti'hi picked up his weapon, Sardis reinforcements tore through the trees. Armored vehicles squished startled Ti'hi beneath the tracks as soldiers poured out of the transports. Colonel Marking was shouting and directing the new troops, which were more than they had first arrived with. Somehow, word must have reached the Empress, or one of the nearby garrisons at the very least, and they too had sent reinforcements.

The hell hound was still attached to Prazak's arm. His hands were free, having dropped his swords when the animal had attacked, and with his opposite hand, he grabbed the beast's lower jaw in an attempt to pry it off of him. As bones snapped in the hound's mouth, a roar, followed by a flash of white and grey bounded onto the dog's back.

Zoja, eyes ablaze with anger, buried her claws into the back of the dog's head. When it let go of Prazak's arm in order to howl, the spotted cat shifted and tore into the dog's throat with her fangs. The hell hound struggled to break free, but the cat was clamped firmly onto her prey. When the dog rolled onto its side, Zoja jerked her head and ripped the other animal's throat open, spilling blood and sinewy tendons to the snow.

Prazak didn't have time to thank his feline companion. He pushed all thoughts of pain from his mind, picked up his weapons, and stood. The Ti'hi were retreating.

"Cowards!" Prazak shouted.

The massive creature turned, spat at Prazak, then hurried off into the woods. The remaining Ti'hi ambushers following their leader in haste.

"Hunt them down!" Prazak ordered. "Kill them all!"

"Andrej!" Marking pointed at the pond.

Herschel, laid out on his back, blood staining the fractured ice, struggled to roll over.

Running to the edge of the pond, Prazak sheathed his weapons as the Starfleet officers, Zoja, and Marking arrived with him.

"Hang on, Wilhelm," Prazak shouted as he tore off his chest armor. "Just stay still."

"You can't go out there," someone said, but Prazak wasn't hearing it.

Marking was also stripping off his armor.

Zoja mewed then leapt out onto the ice before the two augments could take a step.

"Zoja!" Prazak yelled.

"She's lighter than us," Marking said, but he still preparing to advance onto the ice if necessary.

Prazak couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Herschel managed to roll onto his stomach and was slowly crawling across the ice, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Prazak winced each time the ice cracked and shuttered. Herschel still had his armor on. If the ice broke, he'd sink faster than a boulder.

Zoja moved swiftly across the frozen pond; her padded paws assisting her in gliding towards the wounded man. When she reached Herschel, the ice shifted and split behind them.

Prazak's jaw was so tight, his teeth hurt. "Hurry."

Zoja took Herschel's right forearm in between her jaws in the same manner the cats would carry their young. When she had him secured, she started to pull him, walking backwards as she did. Prazak could hear Herschel groan. He was alive, but for how long, no one would know.

Man and animal scooted back across the delicate ice. They were approximately fifty meters away when the ice beneath Herschel crumpled. Herschel cried out as his lower half sank into the frigid water. Zoja crouched, but kept her jaws on the man's arm as she tried desperately to pull him up. The ice kept breaking.

"No!" Prazak shouted. Without concern for himself, he dashed out onto the ice.

Zoja was growling with fear as Prazak reached her side, sliding onto his belly to reach down and hook his arms under Herschel's armpits before his friend went all the way under.

Herschel groaned again and mumbled something, but Prazak wasn't pay attention to the man's words. With all his strength, he started to lift his wound friend from the water, reaching down to grab the back of Herschel's belt.

The water was so cold it burned. Straining as he pulled, Prazak looked at his friend. "Come on! You're not dying on me, brother."

He felt hands hook under his own arms and pull backwards. Between his efforts, Zoja's and whoever was behind him, they pulled Herschel out of the water. Prazak rotated so he could wrap his legs around Herschel's waist to prevent him from slipping back beneath the ice as the group was dragged backwards.

The ice continued to break apart all around and when it fell out from beneath them a second time, Prazak feared they were doomed. But they'd been close enough to the shore and when his body fell into the water, he was able to remove his legs from his Herschel so his feet could touch the bottom of the pond. Standing, he repositioned Herschel so the blonde General's arm was draped across Prazak's shoulders.

It was then that he saw it had been Marking and Worf that had come onto the ice to aid in the rescue. They trudged through the muddy, freezing water, as did Commander Riker and two soldiers, to help Prazak and Herschel the rest of the way to the shore. Zoja had jumped from the water and was currently shaking watery droplets from her fur.

Once back on solid ground, Prazak didn't set Herschel down. They may be acclimated to the weather, but the man's wound, coupled with his exhaustion, would surely worsen if set down on the cold ground.

Instead he led his friend to one of the vehicles. Soldiers shouted and hurried out of the way so their Generals could get into the back of the closet transport. A soldier jumped into the front and started the vehicle so the interior would warm up.

Setting his friend down on his stomach, Prazak quickly removed Herschel's armor. Pulling his clothing up, he exposed the wound. It was deep and still bleeding. Herschel's skin was freezing.

"We'll get you back to the infirmary," Prazak told his friend as Zoja came in and positioned herself on the floor by Herschel's head.

Doctor Crusher, along with the other officers, the freed prisoner and Marking appeared. "Let me help him," the Starfleet doctor stated.

Prazak wasn't going to argue. He knew Starfleet's technology was far more advanced than theirs and from the seriousness of the wound, without immediate care, Herschel wouldn't make it back to the city alive.

Moving over in the cramped space, Prazak waved the redheaded woman forward. He watched as Crusher placed a hand near Herschel's wound then waved a medical tricorder over him.

"His body temperature is dropping," Crusher stated. "You need to cover him. Get him warm."

Marking disappeared and returned a few moments later with a handful of garments, to include Prazak's cloak he'd left in another vehicle. As if she knew what to do, Zoja shuffled forward and pressed herself next and partially on top of the man, opposite his wound. The cloak and garment were thrown over his body.

"Can you stop the bleeding?" Prazak asked.

"I'll try," Crusher replied without looking up. From the medical kit she carried beneath her winter clothing, she withdrew a number of devices. Prazak had no idea what they were, but at the moment he didn't care. If they saved his friend's life, that's all that mattered.

Taking Herschel's hand, Prazak rubbed it between his own. The wounded General was still cold, but Prazak thought he felt some warmth returning. Or he was just imaging it, hopeful that whatever the doctor was doing was helping.

"How long until the bleeding stops?" he asked when the silence was too much for him to bear.

Crusher waved a device over the wound, a thin red beam emanating from the end. In her other hand she studied the tricorder readout. "The wound is deep. Its slow going, but it's working." She looked up at him. "General, I suggest we get moving. I can continue to work on him as we head back."

Prazak looked past her towards the others. Worried and concerned looks blanketed their faces. Except for one. The prisoner. Prazak couldn't interpret the man's mood, but for some reason it angered him.

He quelled the urge to confront the man, but he'd make damn sure he got some answers. To Marking he said, "Take charge. Have one of the other vehicles bring the Starfleet personnel and the prisoner back with us."

Marking lifted his eyes from his wounded friend. The stocky augment nodded once, "Yes, of course." He glanced down at his wounded comrade for another brief moment then turned and pushed by the Starfleet officers.

"I'll ride with you," Troi suggested while stepping into the vehicle.

Whether she didn't want her doctor alone or she felt the need to provide some comfort, Prazak was grateful for her offer of company. He nodded. "The rest of you can ride in the other vehicle."

"Doctor?" Picard breathed.

"Just go, Jean-Luc," Crusher replied while continuing her ministrations. "We'll be fine."

"Okay." Picard looked up at Prazak. "I'm sorry about your friend."

"He'll be fine," Prazak replied while giving Herschel's hand a squeeze.

Picard seemed to understand. When two soldiers came over and gestured at the officers, Picard and the remainder of his crew went with them.

The vehicle's hatch closed and within moments they were heading off.

* * *

His mood was solemn. Remorseful. Once again, Prazak's people had died to protect Starfleet. How could Picard possibly justify detaining the augments after all they'd done for Picard and his people. Not to mention all they'd done for the people on this planet. The brutality he'd just witnessed in the Ti'hi was extremely unsettling. Without men like Prazak, Herschel, and Marking the people of Sardis would suffer needlessly at the hands of such brutes.

He'd have to find some way to convince Starfleet that these men needed to stay. He just didn't know how he could do that without violating his orders.

"Captain?" Riker asked softly.

With a sigh, Picard set the thoughts aside. He'd figure something out. At the moment, he had to concentrate on finding out what he could from the man they'd just rescued.

He gave his First Officer a curt nod. "You fought bravely out there." He looked at Worf. "Both of you. I'll ensure it is logged."

Riker didn't say anything in response. Neither did Worf. Picard noted they both looked more exhausted than he'd seen either man in some time.

He turned his eyes to the man they'd rescued. He was seated directly across from Picard, with Worf on one side and a helmeted Sardis soldier on the other. A blanket had been thrown over the prisoner's shoulders and the soldier handed him a metal container filled with water.

"Sir," Picard stated, drawing the man's eyes up. "You're safe now."

The man's eyes shifted a little, but he took a sip of the water and nodded. "Thank you."

"What's your name? Do you remember how you got here? How you were captured?"

The man paused, his eyes closing for so long Picard thought he might have passed out. When he started to speak, his eyes remained closed. "My name...Lieutenant Dickerson. I was the shuttlecraft pilot."

"What ship were you assigned to?" Riker asked next.

Dickerson opened his eyes. " _The USS Roosevelt."_

"How did you get here?" Picard said.

"I'm tired," Dickerson answered.

"I understand," Picard replied sympathetically. "I cannot possibly imagine what you've been through."

Dickerson took another sip from the water canister. "We were transporting some diplomat. I can't even remember the man's name or race. Our craft started experiencing strange system failures and I had to find a place to bring her down in order to affect repairs. I don't remember much. Just that when we hit the atmosphere...it was...horrific. The storms tore into our shields as if they weren't even there."

"Similar to what happened to us," Riker mumbled so only Picard could hear.

"What else? What happened to the others?" Picard asked.

Dickerson was shaking his head. "They died. The diplomat died in the crash. The rest of the shuttle crew died as well. Some from exposure. Some when we were captured."

"How long have you been a prisoner?" Worf grumbled.

Dickerson shook his head. "I don't know. But I can't imagine it's been that long. You're here. You must have been sent to aid in the search for us."

"We picked up a distress beacon," Riker explained. "A beacon that hasn't been in use for over thirty years."

"That's...impossible," Dickerson gulped. His eyes rolled back and he swayed.

Picard reached forward, steadying the shocked Lieutenant. "Relax for now. We'll be able to figure this all out once we arrive back at the city. From there I can contact the _Enterprise_. I want Doctor Crusher to conduct a full physical on you as well."

Dickerson inhaled and exhaled a number of times then glanced around as if seeing the inside of the transport for the first time. His eyes drifted to the soldier next to him, but the man still wore his helmet. He didn't speak to Dickerson at all.

"Who...who are these people?" Dickerson muttered.

"We'll explain all that when we get back," Riker stated. "For now, just know that they helped us find you. Rescue you."

Dickerson's question reminded Picard of something back in the caves. Looking the Lieutenant in the eyes, he said, "When we found you, you were terrified on the General. You called him Specter. You know him."

Dickerson appeared caught off guard, but only for a moment. He shook his head. "I assumed. I heard my captors speak of a ghost. A ghost with a longsword with a cat's head at the end. They were scared of him."

"You understood their language?" Worf asked, a bit of doubt bleeding into his words.

"No, I had my universal translator," Dickerson explained. "I'd hidden it on my body. Eventually it stopped working."

Something about Dickerson's story wasn't meshing for Picard. "What did your captors say about this ghost?"

Dickerson shrugged. "I can't really remember."

Picard leaned back. He didn't really believe Dickerson, but he couldn't be a hundred percent sure the man was lying either. Maybe Dickerson was afraid or just fatigued. Either way, he didn't think questioning him about Prazak any more at the moment was a good idea.

"Just relax and know you're safe now. The rest will work itself out." Picard rubbed his hands on his thighs.

Dickerson nodded. "Thank you, Captain. Thank you."

* * *

"He's stable." Crusher clicked off her device. "But he'll need to rest and recover as not to aggravate the wound."

Prazak nodded as the vehicle swayed. "He'll recover faster than a normal human due to his enhancements."

Crusher tucked her device pack into her kit. She withdrew a hypo spray and pressed it against Herschel's upper arm. "This will help him with the pain so he can rest. If it was anyone else, I'd have expected him to die out on the ice. The amount of blood loss was significant. Yet it appears you can regenerate your own blood supply at an accelerated rate."

Prazak took a seat on the bench. He set Herschel's hand down as Zoja repositioned herself, still keeping the wounded man warm. "That is true." He looked down at his friend and the cat then back at the doctor. "Thank you for helping him."

"I may be a Starfleet officer, but first and foremost I'm a doctor. And I have a duty to help save lives." She pushed herself up onto the bench next to him. "It appears your leg wound stopped bleeding on its own. But let me take a look at your arm."

Prazak huffed. "I'm okay."

"No, Andrej," Deanna stated. She'd remained quiet while Crusher had done her work on Herschel. She nodded at Prazak's arm. "Your arm is bleeding again."

"And you could be infected." Crusher reached across Prazak's body and grabbed his wrist. He didn't resist. "Are those animals known to carry diseases?"

"You mean like rabies?" Prazak referenced the old Earth disease found in rabid mammals.

Crusher nodded. "Rabies or something indigenous to this planet."

"Not that I'm aware of, doctor," Prazak confessed.

"I'd like to take a sample regardless," Crusher said. She looked up into his eyes. "Since we already know who you are, another blood sample won't matter."

Prazak smiled a little. "I suppose so."

"Good." Crusher rolled his sleeve up to his elbow, careful as to not let the fabric stick to the bite wounds. "Now let me see what I can do for this."

He leaned his head back, but kept his eyes on his arm as Crusher went about examining the wound. But when Deanna spoke in his mind, he looked towards her.

 _I am very sorry your friend was hurt for our sake._

 _He was hurt, but many of my soldiers also died. Do not forget them._

 _We won't._

She smiled a little at him. _Doctor Crusher is an amazing physician. She'll take care of you. Both of you._

 _I can see she is experienced. And caring._

 _She is. We are fortunate to have her as our Chief Medical Officer._

"How bad does it hurt?"

Crusher's question pulled him away from his internal conversation with Deanna. "It stings and throbs."

"You're lucky that thing didn't tear your arm off," Crusher said as she pressed a new hypo spray into his arm.

"Thanks to Zoja." Prazak smiled.

Zoja's purrs rumbled against Herschel in response to her master's praise.

Deanna reached down and patted the cat on the head. "Such a loyal animal."

"In a way you can say the same for the beast that did this." Prazak lifted his arm, but was stopped by Crusher's firm hold. "It did what its master ordered."

"That Ti'hi," Deanna started.

"I've never seen one of its size and viciousness," Prazak mused. "When its warhammer struck me it caved in my armor. No Ti'hi weapon has ever done such damage with one blow."

"I'll check out your torso next," Crusher stated in response to his words.

"Doctor, I will be fine," Prazak insisted. "You've seen how we heal more quickly than others."

"Can you let me do my job, please?" Crusher smirked while wrapping bandages over the bite wounds that she'd successfully stopped from bleeding.

"Fine." he chuckled.

"What will happen now?" Deanna asked with a serious tone.

Prazak shrugged. "I'll report to the Empress on what happened. We'll have to find that Ti'hi and kill it. This ambush was coordinated and planned. It's like they knew we were coming. This is not common behavior for the Ti'hi."

"What do you mean?" Troi questioned next.

Prazak sighed heavily. "I fear something dreadful is on the horizon."

* * *

While General Herschel was being attended to in the infirmary, Prazak received a report for Marking. The Sardis dead had been collected and were being transported back to the capital.

 _More names for the wall._

Marking had also reported that he wanted to search the Ti'hi hole more thoroughly and had requested more reinforcements to secure the site as they searched. Prazak had approved the plan, but told his friend to make it quick once the reinforcements arrived. He didn't want his people out there any longer than necessary. Yet, they definitely needed answers. Answers they could hopefully discover deep within the Ti'hi hideout.

While he'd taken time to clean his weapons, Prazak hadn't changed clothes or cleaned up yet. Herschel's immediate care had been his priority. He'd wiped his face with a cloth from the infirmary then frowned when it came away soiled with blood, sweat, and grime.

 _I must look as awful as I feel._

Tossing the rag into one of the disposal receptacles he left the attending Sardis physician explicit instructions to alert him if Herschel's condition worsened, even though the man appeared to be recovering rapidly.

On his way out, he noted that Zoja stayed at Herschel's bedside. While the Davnora cat mostly stayed with Prazak, she would also spend time with Herschel and Marking. Her display of loyalty when she tried to save the German augment continued as she kept watch at his side during his recovery. Prazak smiled at the cat and Zoja let out a soft roar as her tail thumbed against the floor.

Doctor Crusher intercepted him before he could leave. "Thank you again, Doctor. If you'd like I can take you back to where your quarters."

Crusher shook her head. "You have more wounded coming in, yes?"

"That is correct."

"Then, with your approval, I'd like to stay here and assist your doctors with caring for the wounded."

Prazak cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "You'd do that for my people? Does it not violate your Prime Directive?"

"At this point, General, how haven't we violated the Prime Directive?" Crusher laughed a little. "And Captain Picard should be bringing the man we rescued here for me to examine as well."

Prazak nodded. "My infirmary is at your disposal, Doctor. If you need anything," he pointed towards the lead physician caring for Herschel, "ask Belan. She will assist you."

"Thanks." Crusher smiled. "How's the arm?"

Prazak raised it for her to see. "Much better. The pain is gone."

"You're not just saying that?"

Prazak grinned. "Remember, I am an augment."

"You're still a man and I swear men are some of my most stubborn patients."

Prazak's grin widened. "On Earth my wife was studying at Charles University in Praha* to become a doctor. She would say the same things about her patients when she was a medical student."

"Your...wife?" Crusher stumbled on the words.

"Yes, I was married," Prazak said. "But Khan saw to it that my happiness would not last. I showed your Counselor what Khan did to my family. At the moment, I would rather not repeat it."

Crusher lowered her eyes. "I understand. And I'm sorry."

"Do not be," Prazak offered. "What Khan did to me and my loved ones happened a long time ago. Today you helped save my friend's life. For that I am grateful, Doctor."

* * *

The door signal chimed a second time. With a sigh, Prazak downed the rest of his drink then went to open the door. After leaving the infirmary, he'd stopped to report privately to Empress Tarina, stopped in the command center to check on the forces being sent to Marking, then headed out.

After returning to his living area, he'd lingered under the hot water in the shower, letting the steam, soap, and water wash away the weariness from his muscles. He had to admit that Doctor Crusher had done a fine job on his arm and ribs. He was still a bit stiff, but the pain had definitely lessened. Same with his leg and knee.

Eventually, he'd stepped out of the shower, dressed and given himself his injection.

And while all he really wanted was to be alone with his thoughts, he had a visitor.

Opening the door, he found Counselor Troi. His frowned changed to a smile and he realized he was happy to see her.

"I hope I'm not being presumptuous by coming here again," Troi said softly.

"Not at all." Prazak stepped to the side and let her in. "I'm happy for some company at the moment."

"Are you?" she asked when he shut the door and turned to face her.

"Well, for your company then." Prazak shrugged. "Anyone else and I might have turned them away."

"Nice to know I'm still welcome." Deanna sighed.

Prazak's smile vanished as his brow furrowed. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"A lot has happened in the short time since I was last here in these rooms with you," Deanna confessed. "I wasn't sure if your feelings had changed."

Without really thinking about it, Prazak strode over and took her hands in his. "If my feelings have changed, then they'd changed for the better. Deanna, I know this isn't easy for you. To stand apart from how the rest of your friends feel,-"

She squeezed his hands and smiled at him. "Would you believe me if I told you that, after that battle, they seem to be more supportive of you?"

Prazak arched an eyebrow. "It's a little hard to fathom. I witnessed your Doctor's genuine concern, but I attributed that to her dedication as a physician. Why would they rest of their attitudes change?"

Deanna shrugged and dropped his hands. She went and sat on his couch, opposite the fire. "The way you fought. Not only for your people, but for us. How you moved us off to a safer location in the heat of battle. How you risked your own life to save your wounded friend. Everything."

"Even your Captain?"

"He understands your concern, Andrej. He really does. Just like you, he's torn. And now he has the new task of figuring out who this Starfleet officer is and how he got here."

Prazak raised his hands. "I assure you, Deanna, we knew nothing about him until you all arrived claiming there was a distress beacon from a lost vessel."

"Oh I believe you, Andrej. I always did believe you." Deanna smiled. "How is General Herschel doing?"

Prazak maneuvered his way around his table and sat down next to the Counselor. Reaching over, he picked up her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. "Your concern is appreciated, Deanna. He is doing well. Wilhelm is almost as stubborn as I am. He'll be back on his feet in a few days."

Deanna lowered her head and laughed a little. Then she reached over and placed her hand on his bandaged forearm. "And you?"

"I barely feel it. Thanks to your kind doctor," Prazak answered.

"When I saw that animal attack you," Deanna stroked her hand over the bandage then looked up into his eyes, "I was so frightened. I was sure I'd feel your fear, but I didn't. All I felt was your determination. I don't know how you do it, Andrej."

"You said it before," he breathed quietly, "when war is all you know you learn to suppress other emotions."

"I wish there was a way," she whispered, her voice trailing off.

"A way to what?" he asked.

"To stay with you," Deanna confessed.

Prazak's heart skipped a beat, but he replied, "There isn't. But at least for now we are together."

"Yes." Deanna leaned into him, pressing her mouth to his. When he opened up to her, she pushed her hands under his shirt. Prazak took the hint and pulled back from the kiss only long enough to strip off the garment.

When their lips met again, he leaned forward, lowering Deanna to her back as he hovered over her, their mouths never parting as their kiss deepened in passion and desire.

Prazak lost himself with Troi. Their passionate love making helping him forgetting all of his troubles.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**

* Praha - Prague, Czech Republic. "Praha" is how Czech's say the capital's name and since Prazak is originally from Czechoslovakia he would say Praha, not Prage.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you!**

* * *

Upon waking, Prazak was alone. He and Deanna had fallen asleep sometime during the day after they'd made their way to his bedroom after their first round of love making. He wished Troi would have stayed with him, but he knew she'd eventually be missed by her colleagues. Since the previous night's battle and its aftermath had bled over into the morning hours, it was now midday.

Propping himself up, Prazak took a moment to remember his time with Troi, choosing to think of that encounter versus the events that had led up to it. His skin tingled as he recalled the experience and how satisfied it made him feel. A smile spread across his face as he ran his hands through his hair.

He debated reaching out to her mind, asking where she was, but decided against it. He'd see her soon enough. Swinging his legs out from beneath his fur lined blanket, Prazak stood and stretched. His wounds were healing fairly well, with only the animal bites on his arm still giving him some slight discomfort.

His information pad started to flash. Grabbing the device from where he'd left it next to the bed, he keyed in his identification. A moment later Captain Tristin's face appeared on the screen.

Prazak kept his expression neutral. Tristin would only call him if the Empress was summoning him, but was having difficulty using her telepathic powers to do so. Tarina was still young and her skills were not fully developed. Add on the stress the young woman was probably suffering, Prazak understood that she'd be having difficulty reaching his mind.

"What is it, Captain?"

"General, your presence is required in one hour in the Empress' throne room," Tristin stated officially. Prazak noted that Tristin's usual annoyances were gone. The Captain of the Empress' guard must have finally realized how severe the situation was becoming; that and he probably wanted to get in on the fighting, but couldn't due to his position.

"I will be there," Prazak replied. "Does the Empress desire to visit the troops in the infirmary?"

"Afterwards," Tristin remarked. "She wishes to speak with you and the Starfleet personnel prior to that. Can you escort them to the Empress? Or should I send a team to retrieve them?"

Prazak shook his head. "That won't be necessary. I will bring them. We'll be there within the hour."

"I will let her know," Tristin said. He didn't severe the link and Prazak saw the man's eyes wavering.

"What else, Captain?" Prazak prodded.

"Sir," Tristin started. He paused for a moment, then looked back at the screen. "I just wanted to say that from what we heard about the battle our soldiers fought bravely."

"They did," Prazak remarked.

"All of them, Sir," Tristin added.

It was the most Tristin would give as a compliment to Prazak. Andrej didn't think the man was jealous or even angry. He just didn't know how to pay proper accolades to his Supreme Commander.

"Yes." Prazak smirked. "See you shortly, Captain."

He ended the call before Tristin could do so. He needed to get ready.

* * *

Even with having slept, Picard still felt exhausted. The events of the last few days was getting to him both physically and mentally. He wanted to return to the _Enterprise_ , but felt his presence was better served down on the planet. At least until he figured out what to do in regards to both Prazak and the mysterious Lt. Dickerson.

The rest of the away team had also opted to stay with him, even though he'd given each the option of returning to the ship. None had hesitated with their answers. They were as invested as he was and wanted to see it through to the end.

After giving them time to rest, Picard had assembled his team in the main room they'd been given. Doctor Crusher had returned from the Sardis infirmary a few hours prior. She looked haggard and tired after spending so many hours helping the wounded. Picard also knew she'd taken time to examine Dickerson, who remained in the infirmary. Picard imagined Prazak had the man under constant guard.

With everyone present and seated around the table, Picard used his tricorder to contact Lt. Commander Data. Before retiring, he'd sent Data the information Dickerson had given in hopes that his Second Officer could uncover some more clues about the man and his mission that led him here.

"Data here, Captain," the android stated.

"Go ahead, Mister Data," Picard prompted.

"Aye, Sir," Data replied. "I was successful in pulling personnel assignments from the _Enterprise_ 's databanks in regards to the _USS Roosevelt'_ s crew. I compiled the ship's manifests for the last forty years based on the timeframe the distress signal we received was in use. Currently, I have found only one individual named Dickerson that served on the _Roosevelt_ , however that individual was a female Ensign of mixed genetics. Her father was human and her mother was Vulcan."

"So no human males by that name?" Riker asked even though Data had already stated as such.

"No, Commander," Data responded without emotion. "I can continue to go further back if necessary."

Crusher folded her hands on the table. "Dickerson, if that is his real name, is definitely human. There's no question about that."

"Perhaps he's not remembering the events correctly?" Worf suggested. "Prolonged captivity could have damaged his memory."

"That is a possibility." Picard nodded at his security chief. He saw a frown appear on Crusher's face.

"What is it, Doctor?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, Jean-Luc, but I have this feeling in my gut that he might not have been a captive as long as we believe."

That perked Picard's interest. "Explain."

"When I examined him, he didn't show signs or symptoms one would associate with prolonged captivity. He was only slightly malnourished and dehydrated. His muscles were not atrophied and his cardiovascular system showed no signs of stress."

Assimilating the information, Picard turned to the ship's counselor. "Deanna? Any input on his mental state?"

With a frown, Deanna responded, "When we first discovered him in his cell he was frightened. It felt genuine."

"You said he was frightened by General Prazak," Riker said.

Deanna nodded. "Yes. At the time, I associated it with Dickerson being suddenly confronted by armed men entering his cell. Something he'd fear if his captors beat and abused him. While they are different races, Dickerson may not have recognized that in the initial confrontation and his fear of pain took over his reason."

"Prazak also isn't the warmest man." Riker chuckled. "He could definitely use some work on his interpersonal skills."

Picard caught a slight flash in Deanna's eyes as she glanced away from Riker. This wasn't the first time he'd seen such a reaction from his counselor when they were discussing the augment leader. While the personal relationships his crew held were only his business when it came to the smooth operations of his ship, he still had to be concerned if and when a crew member became involved with someone from the outside. He made a mental note to speak to Deanna privately about her relationship with Prazak.

But they were getting off topic. Picard steered the conversation back to Dickerson. "Mister Data, what about Lt. Dickerson's claim that he was transporting a diplomat?"

"Sir, during the timeframes I searched the _Roosevelt_ conducted one hundred and three diplomatic transfers. Forty two of those took place using a shuttlecraft for transport to and from the ship. However, all missions were reported successful and the _Roosevelt_ never reported a lost shuttlecraft."

"So, either the man he cannot remember the details of how he got here, as Mister Worf suggested, or he is lying," Picard concluded. "We'll definitely have to question him more. Doctor Crusher, is he well enough to be transported back to the _Enterprise_?"

"I'd like him to have at least one more day to recover, but if necessary, he can be taken back to the ship," Beverly reported.

"Captain," Riker interjected. "Do you think Prazak will allow us to take Dickerson to the _Enterprise_?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Worf questioned. "Regardless of Dickerson's claims, he is a member of the Federation."

"But is he?" Deanna countered. "We haven't discovered anything that would suggest he's really from Starfleet."

"He's human and therefore falls under the Federation's protection," Crusher said.

"Technically, so is Prazak and his men," Deanna pointed out. "Yet, we threatened them with arrest."

"That's different, Deanna," Riker remarked, his eyes narrowing as he did.

Picard held up his hands. "Each situation is unique in its own rights. Mister Data, continue your research and see if you can discover anything else about Lt. Dickerson."

"Aye Aye, Captain," the android answered.

"As for the rest of us,-"

A knock on the door interrupted Picard. When it didn't open and the knock happened a second time he raised his eyebrows at the others and called, "Enter."

The door opened and Prazak stepped inside. His cat, Zoja, once again at his side. To Picard, Prazak looked the same as he did the first time they'd met. His clothing was sharp, his boots and armor highly polished. He wore only his longsword on his belt. He'd trimmed up the hair on his face and neck, but it was still scruffy and not a full beard; Picard assumed Prazak preferred it that way. He did not appear exhausted in the slightest.

Hand on the pommel of his sword, Prazak took only a moment to look around the room before settling his gaze on Picard. "Captain Picard, Empress Tarina wishes to speak with you and your crew. I have come to escort you to her throne room."

Palms on the table, Picard pushed himself up. He nodded towards the General then said, "Mister Data, you have your orders. Picard out." He severed the link to the _Enterprise_.

The others rose. Prazak held up a hand when Riker and Worf reached for the swords they'd been given. "No weapons."

"But you're armed." Worf pointed out.

Prazak cocked his head and smiled. "You are a true warrior, Lieutenant, but only soldiers of Sardis are allowed to carry weapons in the Empress' throne room. Even the nobility must relinquish their personal defense items in her presence."

Worf glanced to Picard. He gave his security officer a slight nod. "Do as he says, Lieutenant. We are guests here after all."

"You have my assurance, Captain that your people are in no danger here within the city. All are aware of the bravery each of you has shown."

"I appreciate that, General," Picard replied.

Prazak turned and motioned at the door with his free hand. "Please, the Empress must not be kept waiting."

As the group headed for the door, Picard swore he caught Prazak and Troi exchanging the faintest of smiles.

 _Yes, I really need to find out more about what is going on between those two._

But Picard wasn't a fool. He already had a good idea in regards to Deanna and the General.

* * *

Leading the way through the compound towards the tower, Prazak remained quiet. No one spoke to him as he traversed the halls. Even once he reached the tower, the nobility let him and the others pass without interference. He didn't even hear them muttering under their breaths. Word must have traveled fast about the ambush and subsequent battle that presented a new threat to the city. To the city and the nobility. And as much as the nobility sneered at Prazak and his soldiers behind their backs, the elites knew that Prazak's army was the only thing that kept the nobility from being enslaved and slaughtered by the Ti'hi.

When they reached the doors, the royal guards that stood on either side of the doors reached for the massive handles. Prazak indicated with a wave for them to wait.

Turning back to the group he spoke, "You've already met the Empress, so you know the proper customs. She is under a lot of pressure at the moment, so I would ask that you take care when speaking with her."

"Am I correct in assuming this has to do with last night's battle and the man that was rescued?" Picard asked evenly.

Prazak kept his mouth drawn. "It is about whatever she wishes. However, I would say that subject will probably be at the forefront of the discussion."

When Picard and his crew nodded, Prazak motioned to the guards to open the doors.

Prazak had lost track of how much time he'd spent in the throne room, but each time he entered he still felt uneasy. His place was with his soldiers and his friends, not with the nobility or royalty. But his position dictated his presence and he knew that Tarina trusted him unconditionally. Once, she had mentioned that she would have preferred him to be her personal guard. Prazak would have obeyed if she had ordered it, but he'd convinced her that he would be of more use to her as her Supreme Commander at the head of her army. She had agreed and he'd stayed where he was.

The room was large and deep. The thuds of his boots rang off the polished stone floors and echoed high into the raised ceiling. Stone columns reached upward and stained glass windows decorated the walls at regular intervals. The seat of Sardis' power, the throne room was normally filled with any number of nobility and advisors reporting to the Empress, yet presently it was almost completely deserted. At the far end, directly opposite the doors they'd entered was the throne itself.

Atop a dais, the throne was made of a dark wood. Intricate designs were carved into the seat and colorful cushions provided comfort to the Empress, who at times would have to spend hours upon the seat. Hanging above the throne was a gigantic tapestry that depicted the coat of arms of the royal house. Two smaller tapestries flanked it and each depicted a pivotal scene from the lives of the Warrior Ruler and the Kindly One.

Tarina was seated on the throne, her small stature making the chair appear even larger than it was. Captain Tristin stood to her right and her main advisor on her left. Other royal guards were stationed at the corners of the dais base.

In her hands, Tarina held a single belora flower, cut low at the stem.

Prazak came to a stop, going down to one knee. "Your Highness."

Tarina smiled. "Stand up, General."

Prazak did as he was told. He saw the Starfleet personnel bow their heads respectfully. The Empress stood then descended the steps of the dais, her purple gown and rich, heavy cloak flowing behind. Tristin and the advisor followed.

When the Empress reached the floor she patted Zoja on the head, receiving a purr of happiness from the Davnora cat in response. Zoja's tail thumped against the side of Prazak's leg.

Stepping to the Starfleet personnel, Tarina nodded to Doctor Crusher. "You are the doctor that saved General Herschel's life? That stayed with my wounded soldiers and aided in their care and recovery?"

Crusher blushed. "Yes, Your Highness, but I was just doing my duty as a doctor."

The young ruler smiled then held out the flower with both hands, presenting it to Crusher. "For you, Doctor Crusher. It may not seem like much, but this flower is the symbol of my family. I offer it to you to show my appreciation for what you did for my people."

Crusher took the belora flower, cradling it gently. "Thank you."

"The stem has been treated so the flower will not die," Tarina explained.

When Crusher nodded her thanks once again, Tarina turned to Prazak. "General, let us move this discussion to the antechamber."

"As you wish, Empress," Prazak replied as Tarina headed off to a door tucked into the corner of the back wall.

Tristin's guards went ahead and opened the door for the Empress. Prazak motioned for the group to follow.

The antechamber was where the Empress conducted the majority of her private engagements. A long table, made from the same wood as the throne occupied the center of the room. Just like the throne, it had a number of symbols and designs woven into the legs and feet. The chairs around the table were mostly plain, with the exception of the head chair. It was larger than the others and the top bore a carved representation of the Davnora cat's head with two belora flowers on each side.

Tarina took her seat and motioned for the Starfleet personnel to sit, indicating Picard to join her at her side. Her elder advisor stood to her left and Tristin stood a few paces behind his charge. The other guards stayed at the door and the last two had remained outside. Prazak chose to remain standing, placing himself between the Empress and Picard. Zoja nudged her way between him and the Empress. Tarina reached down and scratched the cat's ears.

A spread of food and drink had been placed on the table, with already filled cups set at each place. Tarina took her cup and sipped the steamy liquid. From the corner of his eyes, Prazak watched Picard do the same.

"Your hospitality is much appreciated, Your Highness." Picard set the cup down. "Especially after we seemed to get off on the wrong foot."

"Wrong foot?" Tarina asked, her eyebrow arching as she spoke.

"Forgive me," Picard said with a smile. "An Earth expression that means we were at odds when we first spoke."

"I see," the Empress hummed. "Are you saying that you have changed your stance on your position in regards to General Prazak and his men?"

Prazak's eyelids narrowed as he shifted his gaze towards the Starfleet Captain.

"I am still evaluating," Picard replied uncommitted. "However, the recent events have definitely given me pause."

"Interesting," Tarina mused. "I was told a man was rescued from captivity."

"That is correct, Your Highness," Prazak stated before Picard could answer. "He is currently being treated in the infirmary."

"What is your assessment of this man, Captain?" Tarina questioned.

"He claims to be from Starfleet and we did find him in the vicinity of where our distress beacon was transmitting," Picard explained.

"Yet we did not find the shuttlecraft or the beacon itself," Riker added.

Tarina nodded then looked at Prazak. "General?"

"That is all correct, Your Highness," Prazak stated officially. "Shortly after receiving your summons I was contacted by Colonel Marking. He is on his way back and has some information he needs to share that he did not want to relay over communication links."

"Why not?" Picard asked.

Prazak gave the Captain a look. "I do not know." He returned his attention to the Empress. "He should be here within two hours."

"Until then, what else do we know about this man?" Tarina wanted to know.

"We are actively working to compile more information on him," Picard stated. "I directed my officers onboard my ship to verify his identity. However, at this time I have no reason to discount his story. Whatever information he has provided that is skewed may be attributable to his time in captivity and his weakened physical, mental and emotional states."

Prazak frowned. He wasn't buying Picard's story and from the way the Captain spoke, Prazak assumed Picard himself had his doubts. He turned his head to address the Empress. "Your Highness, we know from history that the Ti'hi do not generally hold prisoners for so long."

Riker sat up straighter. "What are you insinuating, General?"

Prazak scowled back at the man. He respected Riker, but he did not appreciate being questioned in such a manner in front of the Empress. "I insinuate nothing, Commander. I simply state the truth as we know it. The Ti'hi should have killed him long ago. They didn't. So there has to be a reason."

"Perhaps Colonel Marking's information will shed some light on the matter," Tarina stated with a raised hand.

Prazak lowered his head and backed off. "Yes, Empress."

Picard cleared his throat. "Regardless, I feel it is in Lt. Dickerson's best interest that we return him to the _Enterprise._ Protocol dictates,-"

Tarina shook her head. "Until we know more about this man I feel he should remain here."

Prazak couldn't hide the prideful smirk on his face. In fact, he had no reason to hide it, so he let it show.

"I'm not sure I agree, Your Highness," Picard countered.

"I understand your concern, Captain, and I assure you that if he is found to be nothing more than an unfortunate victim, which I'm sure will end up being the case, then you can take him back to your ship. However, until we know what he knows, especially in regards to the Ti'hi that held him and their possible motives, we need to keep him here."

With that Tarina rose. "Inform Colonel Marking to meet us in the infirmary when he arrives. I want to visit our wounded and I would also like to meet this Lieutenant Dickerson myself."

Prazak bowed his head slightly.

The Starfleet officers stood as well. If they had more to say about the matter, Tarina's abruptness made it perfectly clear that she had the final say at the moment.

* * *

Deanna was all too familiar with the pain and suffering one would find in any type of medical facility. And the Sardis infirmary was no different. While not as advanced as Starfleet's facilities, she was still impressed with the level of care being provided to the wounded soldiers.

Stripped of their armor and helmets, Deanna saw the anguish in the faces of the men and women that occupied every bed or cot. A few of the wounded even sat on the floor, forfeiting the beds for others in worse conditions than themselves.

Sardis medical personnel attended the wounded. As soon as they arrived Captain Picard had given Doctor Crusher leave to check on some of the patients.

The overall mood was solemn, but she heard a few of the soldiers laughing and even boasting with stories from the battle. Some consoled their friends, telling them how they'd fought bravely or recalling a scene where they'd struck down their enemies. As a counselor, Deanna knew the behavior was a defense mechanism that helped the soldiers cope.

Deanna watched as Empress Tarina spoke to the wounded. When she'd entered she'd immediately stopped the staff from halting in their duties to attend to her. She also did not ask any soldier to stand in her presence. She was simply there to provide comfort and thanks for their sacrifices.

Zoja was doing her part too. Deanna smiled as the faces of the wounded lit up when the cat came to them, allowing them to stroke her soft fur. Again, Deanna knew that in most cultures, animals were considered a welcome addition to the healing process. Sardis appeared to be no different in that regard.

Even Riker and Worf were receiving praise from the soldiers that they had fought alongside.

Crusher came over to where Deanna stood with the Captain. "Dickerson is still asleep. They administered a sedative, which I had approved prior to leaving, because he had become agitated and unruly. Belan, the lead physician, reported that he was frightening the other patients. Accusing them of treason and ranting on about their impending deaths. They sedated him and isolated him in a room by himself. He's under the watch of a guard and a nurse."

"So we can't speak with him at the moment?" Picard frowned.

"I wouldn't advise waking him, Jean-Luc," Crusher sighed. "But I can stay here until he wakes up. That would give me time to continue to help wherever I may be needed."

"Agreed," Picard said. Then he added, "Just don't overtax yourself, Beverly."

The Chief Medical Officer smiled. "You know I won't."

"I know you will. That's why I have to remind you," Picard smiled back.

When Beverly peeled away, Deanna looked around the room. Off to the right, towards the back was an open doorway. She could just make out the profile of Prazak on the other side.

"I'm going to check on General Herschel," she said to the Captain. "He did almost die to save Will from that Ti'hi."

"I'll join you," Picard replied and placed a hand on her arm.

Together they headed to the doorway. When they arrived, Prazak turned his head to look at them. He smiled a little.

"Are we intruding?" Deanna asked while peeking around the corner.

"No," came the answer from the bed. "I could use some better company than Andrej at the moment."

Prazak snorted and rolled his eyes as Deanna stepped into the room. Three beds were lined against the wall, with Herschel being in the one closest to the door. Deanna saw that he was no longer pale, but he did have dark rings under his eyes, indicative of fitful or poor sleep. He was sitting up, with a blanket around his lower half. His chest was bare except for the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. He was just as well built as his fellow augments. He had discoloration along his left pectoral muscle too. The old scar disappeared beneath his bandages.

"Just because I say you should stay in bed for a while longer does not make me poor company, Wilhelm," Prazak joked.

"You're the Supreme Commander, not a doctor," Herschel shot back with a grin.

"How bad does it hurt?" Deanna asked the blonde General.

Herschel shrugged. "No worse than any other time I've been stabbed."

Picard took a step towards the bed. "You have my sincerest thanks for your actions in saving Commander Riker."

Herschel shrugged at the same moment a nurse appeared in the doorway. She moved by the group, checking on the other two occupants, before returning to Herschel.

It was then that Deanna saw the woman had a syringe in her hands. A syringe filled with the same blue liquid that she witness Prazak injecting into himself.

A look passed between the two augments just then. Deanna caught it. So did Picard. The nurse handed Herschel two rubber blocks. He placed them inside his mouth, one at the back of each side of his jaw.

Prazak turned. "Captain, Counselor, I ask that you turn your backs. He is about to endure a fair amount of pain and it is not an experience we like to share with others."

Picard nodded. When their backs were turned, Deanna caught Prazak motioning with his fingers before he too turned his back.

Even with the blocks in his mouth, Deanna could hear Herschel's pain filled grunts and groans. It didn't last long, but it seemed intense. She couldn't stop herself from wincing each time the General made a noise.

When the sounds from Herschel's bed finally ceased they turned back around. Herschel was pulling the stoppers from his mouth as his head fell back onto the pillow against the wall. The nurse had been holding his hand, but she let go when his body relaxed. He looked exhausted and was sweating.

"What…," Picard started with a hushed tone.

Prazak nodded to the nurse who gathered up her items and left the room. He then went to his friend's side and spoke to him in their language that the translators had yet to decipher.

When Herschel nodded a little, Prazak face Deanna and the Captain. "No doubt you've wondered how we are still alive after all these years."

"Alive and relatively unaged," Deanna remarked. "In the photo we found of you from Earth you're not much older it seems."

Prazak smiled. "It all really happened by accident. This extract comes from the bark of a particular species of trees that grows in the mountains. The people of Sardis use it for pain medication. When we arrived, we fought and were wounded. We were given this extract, just like the natives. It wasn't until a few years later that we really noticed it had stopped us from aging."

Herschel spoke, surprising Deanna because she thought he'd fallen asleep when his eyes had closed during Prazak's speech. "An unfortunate side effect is that our bodies have become dependent on it. If we were to stop taking it we would suffer an excruciating and prolonged death."

"How do you know that?" Picard asked.

"We saw it happen to some of those that arrived with us," Prazak replied, his words soft.

"But it only affects you in this way? Not the people of Sardis?" Deanna questioned.

"Yes, but we don't know why that is," Prazak sighed.

"We don't know if it is because we are human or because we are children of eugenics," Herschel stated. "We have no idea if it would have similar results on other species."

"You truly have discovered the fountain of youth," Picard whistled.

Prazak frowned. "Now you can see one of the reasons we tried to hide our identities from you, Captain. Such a discovery would invite others to come here in attempts to take what does not belong to them. We freed these people from death and slavery once. I will not let that happen to them again because men desire eternal life."

Deanna felt the surge of anger in Prazak, his defensive posture on alert. She shook her head. "Is this why Gary Seven sent you here when you were forced to flee Earth?"

"I don't know," Prazak answered. His outward demeanor softening. "He never told us why he chose this planet. Only that he knew we could do some good here."

Picard stroked his chin. "And perhaps the Klingon invasion was because they had learned of this extract and wanted to acquire it for themselves?"

"Possibly," Prazak sneered. "We didn't bother to ask."

Questions started to form in Deanna's head. "But how could they have known? Has anyone ever left this planet since your arrival?"

"We do not have the capability to leave this planet." Prazak's eyes narrowed.

"You said you killed all the Klingons that attacked you,-" Picard started.

"We did," Prazak boasted as Herschel nodded.

"What about their ships? What happened to those?"

The two augments exchanged questioning looks before Prazak responded, "One was destroyed and the other crashed."

"Where? Where did it crash?" Picard prodded.

"It lies beneath the waves of the Frozen Lake," Prazak answered.

The conversation was interrupted when Empress Tarina stepped into the doorway. Immediately, Prazak straightened and Herschel attempted to rise from his bed.

Tarina waved him down. "Do not get up, General."

"Your Highness," he still tried to stand, but Prazak held him down with a hand on his shoulder, "respect is due."

"Nonsense, General," the teen ruler replied. "I am just here to see how you and the others are feeling."

"We are recovering as best as we can," Herschel answered. "I've tried to tell General Prazak that I can return to duty now."

Deanna smiled while Tarina shook her head. "You will do no such thing, General, until the doctors say so."

Herschel frowned. "Yes, Your Highness."

The Empress came forward and took the man's hand. "From what I'm told, you've earned yourself some rest, Wilhelm."

"If I must." He smiled. "But what about this evening?"

"If you are better by then, I grant you permission to attend. But only briefly, General. Then you are to report back to the infirmary."

Herschel nodded.

Tarina moved off to converse with the other two wounded soldiers in the room.

Deanna watched the young woman some more. She really did appear beloved by her people. Just like Prazak had said the populace felt about the girl's father and grandfather.

 _Such an interesting culture._

"We should go check on Lt. Dickerson and the others," Picard suggested to her.

Deanna nodded. They said their goodbyes to Herschel and departed. Prazak followed. In the main room once again, Deanna saw Colonel Marking and another soldier enter. Prazak mumbled something and headed towards his friend.

Finding Riker and Worf, the Starfleet officers gathered next to Doctor Crusher who had just finished checking on a soldier that had lost her leg just below the kneecap.

Indicating the room with a nod of her head, Crusher led the way to where Dickerson was being cared for. A quick look into the room showed he was still asleep.

"How long will he be out?" Picard inquired.

"It's hard to say," Beverly replied with a sag in her shoulders. "But I'd think at least a couple more hours."

"Stay with him, Doctor," Picard stated again. "If he wakes up in a state, see if you can calm him before he causes another scene."

"Of course, Jean-Luc."

Prazak appeared at Deanna's side. "Empress Tarina is ready to depart. Now that Colonel Marking has returned, I think you'll want to hear what he has to say."

* * *

A short time later the group was back in Tarina's antechamber. Her advisor and royal guards took up their usual positions. As always, Prazak remained standing. Captain Picard and his team all sat on one side while Marking unraveled a large cloth and spread it on out the table.

Andrej noted it was a hand drawn map of the city. The artwork was crude and poor in its structure, but the concept was plain as day. The map indicated access ports and vulnerable areas of the city's defenses.

"The Ti'hi hole was much deeper and larger than we at first thought," Marking explained. "The chamber that held the prison cells was almost like a decoy, set up to make us think there was nothing more to the network of tunnels and caves. However, we discovered so much more."

"Where did you get this map?" Andrej asked.

Prazak rarely saw his fellow augments rattled, but rattled was exactly how Marking looked. He was shaking his head as he replied, "There was an entire city further down." He looked from Prazak to the Empress then back to Andrej. "It was crude and primitive, made mostly of wood shacks and suspended bridges, but it was definitely more sophisticated that anything we've seen from these creatures before. There was a central gathering point in the center of this place. A throne sat raised in the middle. It was there that we found this map as well as a number of other items."

"Were any Ti'hi present?" Tarina asked.

Marking nodded. "Yes, Your Highness. But they did not attack us. They looked afraid. Mostly whelps and elders. We rounded them up to be guarded, but they have not been harmed. Our soldiers are still there, collecting as much evidence as they can."

"This map," Tarina made a sweeping gesture, "clearly shows these Ti'hi were planning to attack us."

"I believe they were making plans to infiltrate the city," Marking said.

Prazak scratched at the stubble on the underside of his chin. "This doesn't make sense. Ti'hi are not this sophisticated. Building underground cities? Making attack strategies? Usually they just rush into a fight, but now we've seen two examples of their coordination as of late. La'trec and the ambush."

"And speaking of the ambush, why would they attack in such a manner and leave all of this behind?" Riker commented.

"My guess," Prazak smirked, "they believed they would have killed all of us."

"But that still begs the question of how they knew we were coming," Riker rebutted.

"Perhaps the Ti'hi in La'trec told them," Tarina's advisor spoke for the first time. "The ones you set free, General."

Prazak knew the old man was taking a subtle shot. He didn't care. "You're wrong, advisor. Those two are still in custody with the La'trec garrison. They have not yet been released."

"Tell the garrison to keep them in custody," Tarina stated with a look at Prazak.

"Yes, Your Highness." He motioned to Tristin who in turn signaled one of his guardsmen. The man bowed, turned on his heel, then disappeared.

"So someone else knew we were coming," Marking stated when the guardsman departed.

"The only way they could have known is if they activated the beacon," Picard mused. "Drawing us to them."

"Are you saying the Ti'hi set a trap for us?" Prazak huffed with an eye roll. "Nonsense."

"How else can you explain it?" Riker questioned in defense of his Captain.

"Need I remind you that the beacon is yours," Prazak growled as realization was starting to hit. He turned to the Empress. "Your Highness, I request permission to take the prisoner into custody immediately. He very well could be an imposter."

"I can't allow that!" Picard bolted to his feet.

Prazak took a step forward, his hand gripping the hilt of his longsword, withdrawing it slightly from its sheath. "Stand down, Captain."

The remaining guards, along with Tristin, had already sprung forward, surrounding the table. They had not drawn their weapons, but were poised to do so without hesitation.

Picard's eyes drifted around the table. Slowly he raised his hands then sat back down. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to appear threatening. It's just, we have no evidence to suspect Lieutenant Dickerson is part of this."

Tarina, having remained stoic in her poise; not even flinching at Picard's sudden outburst or the reaction from Prazak or her guards as they had moved forward to protect her. With a wave of her hand, she signaled the men to relax. All obeyed.

"Captain, for now your Lieutenant shall remain in the infirmary under guard. He is not in custody," Tarina offered smoothly.

From the look on his face, Picard wasn't happy, but he did not argue with the Empress.

Colonel Marking cleared his throat. "There is more, Your Highness."

"Go on, Colonel," Tarina ordered.

"We found the shuttlecraft," the Scout stated matter-of-factly. "Or more accurately, what's left of it."

Riker's eyebrows shot upward. "You did?"

Marking nodded, but kept his attention directed at his ruler. "We found pieces of it scattered throughout. Like they used it as part of their construction. We also found computer assemblies near the central throne. That's also where we found this." He reached into the same pouch that he had pulled the map from earlier. With the utmost care, he set the device on top of the center of the map.

Prazak caught the glances the Starfleet personnel made towards Lieutenant Worf.

Worf shook his head. "That is a Klingon transmitter."

Picard was next to speak. "How did it get into Ti'hi hands?" He fixed his gaze on Prazak. "You said the Klingon ships were destroyed."

"That's not the only thing we found," Marking interrupted before Prazak could answer the Captain.

"What else, Colonel?" Tarina asked evenly.

From the same pouch he produced another small device. It was clearly not of Klingon origin, but Prazak knew at once that it was the distress beacon Starfleet claimed had brought them here.

"The beacon," Marking said. Placing the device next to the other, he straightened his back and crossed his arms over his chest.

Prazak glared at Picard. "Explain this."

The man appeared baffled. "I can't."

"Unacceptable!" Prazak snorted.

Riker waved at the devices. "All this proves is that your enemy was in possession of these devices. You said before they're scavengers. It doesn't prove what you're thinking, General."

Prazak's brow furrowed. "And just what am I thinking, Commander?"

Deanna's interruption caught Prazak by surprise. "You think we're involved in this. You think we are here under some guise. Or that we are working with the Klingons that invaded your planet. None of that is true."

Exhaling through his nose, Prazak conceded. "Perhaps, but that still doesn't explain the captive and his possible role." Turning to his Empress, Prazak lowered his head. "Your Highness, I want to go back and see this place with my own eyes. We need to learn more about what these Ti'hi were doing and who activated the beacon."

Tarina appeared to be weighing his request. "Do you think that is wise, General? If the Ti'hi are planning an attack, perhaps you should remain here."

Prazak looked to Marking. "Did we find the Chieftain that tried to kill General Herschel and Commander Riker?"

Marking frowned. "No. We did catch some stragglers who fought when we surrounded them. They were killed. The only survivors we have in custody are the non-combatants we found in the underground town."

"We've decimated the Chieftain's forces. They are scattered," Prazak told Tarina. "I can't imagine he plans to attack after his failed ambush. At least not until he can reconsolidate. We have time to go back and find out more. In my short absence, I will have the city guard double their forces as well as increase the patrols along the wall."

"We shouldn't be gone more than a day," Marking added.

Tarina nodded. "Very well. However, darkness is already approaching. You may depart at first light. Discover what you can and then return."

"Yes, Your Highness." He would have preferred to leave immediately, but she was right and Andrej would not risk another ambush in the darkness.

"Colonel, the soldiers you left at the site. They are safe?"

Marking nodded. "They've fortified their positions and set up patrols. Nothing will get by them."

Tarina rose from her seat. "Then that will be all for now. This discussion has been tense. Please, I remind everyone that we are all on the same side."

Prazak nodded, but kept the scowl on his face.

Tarina continued, "Captain, in a gesture of good will, I invite you and your team to join me for dinner this evening. We will honor those that fought and died during the ambush."

Prazak groaned inwardly. He hated dinners with the nobility. Tarina hadn't mentioned his presence, but she didn't need to. He, along with Herschel and Marking always had to attend. Yet Prazak would much rather spend his time battle planning or training. Or even just relaxing.

 _Relaxing with Deanna Troi._

He almost grinned at the thought. But just as quickly as he'd thought about Troi another thought entered his head. The nobility. That would include Lady Sa. Which meant she'd be in the same room as Troi. Now he really did have to hide his annoyance from appearing on his face.

 _Give me combat over that any day of the week._

Picard stood and bowed his head. "We'd be honored."

"Then I suggest we part ways so you can rest before rejoining us. I'll send an escort to your quarters to bring you back at the appropriate time."

* * *

 **To Be Continued…**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I apologize for the delay. I've been very busy at work and had little time for reviewing and editing, especially this chapter. Not to mention the World Series! I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you!**

 **Update: Made a few minor descriptive updates to this chapter. Nothing major that changes anything in the plot.**

* * *

Without the ability to easily transport to and from the _Enterprise_ , the away team had been given clothes to wear while their standard uniforms were quickly washed.

Deanna had been impressed with the quality of their garments when they'd been returned.

 _Almost as good as getting a fresh set from the replicators,_ she had mused while getting dressed.

Now they were in the throne room for the third time that day. The evening was drawing on, but that did not seem to bother any of the attendees. Tables and chairs had been brought in and massive spreads of food and drinks were placed on top of long runners of intricate colors and designs. The buzz of conversations filled the air, musicians performed pleasant songs similar to the classical styles of Earth while servers bustled expertly between the throngs of people.

The royal guard force was everywhere. Armor clad men and women were posted at all the doors and around the dais. Even more roamed the room, keeping watchful eyes on the party's guests. Deanna wondered if this was standard or if Prazak had ordered them to be on high alert after their discovery of a possible Ti'hi plot.

And speaking of Prazak, Deanna's eyes roamed the hall until she caught sight of the man. She felt her heart fluttered when she finally found him.

He appeared to be caught up in a conversation with two men wearing well-tailored garments. Or more accurately, he was listening as the two men boasted and gestured, bombarding the General with what appeared to be a passionate subject. Passionate to them at least; Prazak appeared as if he'd been cornered. Just like the majority of the attendees, these men carried themselves with an air of superiority. Deanna could tell by the look on Prazak's face that he was not enjoying the discussion.

 _Noblemen,_ she thought and once again found herself curious about Sardis' societal hierarchy.

Yet she didn't let her thoughts linger on the nobility. Instead she focused on Prazak himself. Dressed in what had to be his own military dress uniform, Prazak exuded military bearing and professionalism. He wore black trouser tucked into highly polished black combat boots that came up over his ankles. A white long sleeve shirt that hugged his frame was underneath the only pieces of armor he wore, his chest and back plates. Even from the distance between them, Deanna could tell the armor was different than the normal pieces she'd seen him in. While the plates were also white, the chest piece bore beautiful designs, outlined in black. High up and centered was the fearsome form of the Davnora cat's head, baring its fangs in an angered snarl. The eyes of the cat were two red ruby-like jewels. Across the abdomen was what Deanna assumed was a profile of the Huron Mountains, with the tallest point being the infamous Tega Peak that Prazak had mentioned. Raised dots must be representative of snow.

Overall, the piece was gorgeous. Deanna wasn't sure if Sardis used currency, but if it did, she guessed the chest piece was near priceless.

Looped around his left shoulder was a knotted icy blue cord. Across his back a thick cloak. Black on the outside, the inner lining of the cloak was a silk like material, pale blue in color to match the cord around his arm. Even Prazak's sword belt and sheath were of a finer quality than the one he normally wore. And of course he carried his longsword. Deanna assumed the weapon only left his side when he was sleeping or bathing. And even then she knew he kept it close at hand.

Unlike the men he conversed with, Prazak was not holding a drink. One hand gripped the pommel of his sword. The other rested in a balled fist on his hip.

About to take a step, Deanna paused when a newcomer approached the trio of men. A woman with almond brown hair, luscious and flowing to the middle of her back, joined them. Her delicate frame screamed of a pampered lifestyle and her fair skin was indicative of a life spent on the snow covered planet. She wore an elegant, floor length gown, deep red with bright gold lace trim along the low cut neckline that accentuated her voluptuous breasts. Black gloves that ended just below her elbows covered her slender arms. She wore an assortment of jewelry too. Silver earrings with a matching necklace, encrusted with precious gems similar to the ones in Prazak's armor. Over her gloves, she wore slim silver rings with white and red gems; one on each hand. The woman was absolutely stunning. Compared to the rest of the women at the gathering, this woman, who had attached herself to Prazak, was by far the most beautiful of all.

The two noblemen bowed their heads slightly while Prazak gave the woman an expressionless look. But the frown that spread across Deanna's face wasn't a result of the beautiful woman's looks. It was her actions that disturbed Troi.

Coming up to Prazak's side, the woman pushed up on her toes to plant a soft, but lasting kiss on Prazak's cheek. Lips curling into a small, yet content smile, she circled one arm around his lower back while her other hand stroked meaningfully down Prazak's upper thigh. Then back up along the inner portion of his leg. Her actions were plain as day to Deanna; the woman was attempting to entice him. And the lack of any action on Prazak's part to make her stop wounded Deanna more than she knew it should.

"Looks like you're not the only one the General is interested in."

Deanna blinked then forced a look on innocent confusion on her face. Turning, she found Will had come up behind her.

Riker handed her a tall glass. "Tastes like champagne."

Taking the glass, Deanna took a sip. "It does."

Will's eyes went to the objects of Deanna's ire for another moment before focusing back on her. "Does it really surprise you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Will," Deanna lied.

Tilting his head, Riker gave her a sympathetic smile. "Come on, Deanna. We've known each other too long. Our connection is stronger than anything you may have shared with him." He jerked his head in the direction of Prazak. "And I've seen how you look at him. You're infatuated with Prazak."

Forcing herself not to roll her eyes, she instead took another sip of the cool liquid. "He's an enigma. That's all."

"Right," Riker huffed a short laugh. "He's mysterious and dangerous. Not to mention extremely good looking. I'm not surprised you're attracted to him."

When he paused, Deanna knew what was coming next. Riker was absolutely correct; they did know each other too long to not be able to read the other like a book. "Go ahead and say what you're thinking, Will."

Riker shook his head. "It's none of my business."

She wanted to tell him he was right; that it was none of his business. Not anymore. But she couldn't let it go. "You wouldn't have mention it if you didn't think it was."

Riker let out an exasperated sigh. "You've spent time with him. Alone. What do you expect me to think?"

Deanna pursed her lips and kept her anger in check. "I don't expect you to think anything. My business is my business. Last I checked I don't need your permission when it comes to relationships, platonic or otherwise."

"Deanna,-" Will started, judgment bleeding into his words.

"Will, need I remind you that we are both free to pursue relationships with other people?" Deanna shot back, a tingle of annoyance in her voice. "I don't question your choices. Yet, you seem to feel the need to question mine."

"You chose a man that's dangerous and secretive. Arrogant. And while he has been on our side, we still don't know enough about him to determine if he's telling us the whole truth."

"You truly are unbelievable, Will Riker," Deanna replied. "So quick to judge. The man saved us from certain death. But that's not it, is it, Will? You're jealous."

"Hardly," Riker snorted.

Deanna knew she'd hit the nail on the head with her assessment, yet she chose not to rub it in. "I'm not interested in having this conversation with you, Will."

Riker glowered. "Of course you aren't. But if you won't listen to me, just accept what your own eyes are showing you." He waved towards the General. "I mean, look at him!"

Deanna glanced back at Prazak. The woman was still attached to his side. Her breasts pressing suggestively against his arm. She still held him around the waist, but her other hand had come to a stop on his hip bone. Deanna fumed as she watched the woman playfully fingering Prazak's belt. And still Prazak did nothing to stop her attempts to arouse him.

Just as she was about to look away, Deanna caught the woman's eyes with her own. A proud smile spread across the noblewoman's lips as she leaned harder against Prazak's side. Her hand slid down ever so subtly towards Prazak's groin, causing the General to flinch slightly. He said something to the woman, causing her to smile back at him and chuckle.

When Prazak's attention went back to the men he was speaking with, Deanna felt a new presence in her mind.

 _You may think he loves you, but he doesn't. He's mine. Go back to your ship and leave this planet. Andrej would never go with you, even if you weren't threatening him with arrest and death. He doesn't love you. You gave him what he wanted and now he's done with you. You're no different than any of the other women he's had. He wanted you, so he conquered you. And now he's through with you. He has no further use for you. He will always come back to me. Because it is I he truly loves._

The words stung. And the fact that these people could communicate telepathically with her was unsettling. Immediately, Troi put up her barriers, but the seeds of doubt had already been planted. She couldn't let go of what the woman had said.

Tearing her eyes away, she heard the woman's exaggerated laughter from across the hall. Looking at Will, she said, "I need some air."

"I'm sorry, Deanna," Riker offered.

Shaking her head, she finished her drink then set the empty glass on a nearby table. When Riker reached for her arm, Deanna brushed his hand away. She didn't need his thinly veiled comfort when she knew he was really thinking 'I told you so'.

"Just give me some time, Will," Deanna stated firmly. "I'd like to be alone for a few moments."

Holding up his hands, Riker let her go. She could feel his stare boring into her back as she wound her way into the crowd.

* * *

The flash of movement off to his right, caught Prazak's eye. Ignoring the two noblemen who continued to gab, seemingly unaware that he had stopped listening, Prazak raised his head with just enough time to see Deanna Troi striding away from Commander Riker. Riker turned and scowled at Prazak before he too disappeared into the crowd.

Sa chuckled venomously at his side. "So emotional, that one."

Prazak frowned. "What did you do?"

She nuzzled tighter against him. "What makes you think I did anything, Andrej?"

With a sneer, he untangled himself from her spider-like clutches. That got the attention of the men, who stopped speaking and looked at him with confusion.

"Excuse me," Prazak grumbled.

"General, your behavior," the rotund noblemen started.

Prazak glowered at the man. To be subjected to the whims of the nobility irked him worse than anything else. While the Kindly One did the right thing by forcing the nobles into service, their superior airs had only gotten worse. He was the Supreme Commander, yet he was forced to placate these people for their own amusement. He hated it.

And he had known what Sa was doing the moment she came over to him, yet he wasn't able to stop her. Not in front of the others.

"Forgive me," Prazak stated flatly. "But my service is to the Empress first. I should really see that her guests are being treated well."

Sa pouted in her usual way. Prazak found it distasteful, yet said nothing. Before they could protest, Prazak left. He ignored others that called to him, looking for a moment of his time, and headed straight to where he'd last seen Troi.

Tucked into one of the corners was a small alcove that opened up onto an enclosed balcony. Even though they were extremely high up in the tower, the balcony was reinforced with stone supports and was never in danger of breaking.

Pushing the plush curtain aside, Prazak made sure his presence was known. Her back was facing him and a chilly breeze wafted through the confined space. Deanna had opened one of the windows; her hands pressed to the stone ledge as she peered out into the night sky.

"Deanna?" Prazak whispered.

He heard her heavy sigh. "I'd rather be alone, Andrej."

"As you wish," Prazak responded.

He turned to go, but she surprised him when she said, "You're not going to try to explain?"

Looking back, he saw she had turned to face him. Her expression wasn't one of anger. It was clear she was hurt and confused. Prazak let go of the curtain and shook his head. He stepped fully onto the balcony. "You said you wanted to be alone. I will respect your wishes, Deanna."

She clasped her hands together in front of her. "Who is she?"

Andrej glanced over his shoulder, ensuring they were still alone. He looked back at her and replied, "Her name is Lady Sa. A noblewoman who holds a fairly high seat on the agricultural board."

"What else?"

Prazak's brow scrunched a little. "What do you mean?"

"Don't do that, Andrej," Deanna said. "Don't belittle me by acting like you don't know what I'm asking you. She's your lover."

Rubbing his eyes, Prazak sighed. He knew this would happen. "She was, yes."

She didn't give him the chance to continue. With a shake of her head, she glared at him. "Was? Or is? Has she continued to warm your bed on the nights I didn't spend with you?"

He wasn't sure where this was coming from. Shrugging, he held out his hands. "Was. The last time I was with her was before I even knew you were on this planet. Before I knew who you were, Deanna." Hoping it would help, he added, "I'm not that type of man. I've never been that type of man."

"That's not what she said to me," Deanna said. "She said you used me. Said I was just like all the other women you'd…conquered."

Prazak quelled his anger as Deanna's voice trailed off. He wasn't angry at her, but at Sa. "She spoke to you? When?"

She looked him straight in the eyes. "She projected her thoughts into my head. When she was groping you."

Prazak scowled. "She should not have done that. That goes against everything we believe in. Deanna, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for her, Andrej." Deanna shook her head a little. "Just tell me the truth."

Prazak took a step forward. When she didn't shy away from him, he stepped closer and took her hands in his. "Deanna, I know that you will eventually leave Sardis. And it hurts me to think about such a day. Because when that day arrives I know I will never see you again. We've already spoken about this, but that still doesn't make it any easier for me. I told you the truth when I said you reminded me what love feels like. I haven't loved a woman in a very long time. Not since my wife was taken from me. But when I met you, I discovered there was still a part of me that could love. I did not use you, Deanna. I swear I didn't. I wouldn't. I wouldn't treat you like that. Lady Sa is an envious woman that said those things to make you hate me. To drive me back into her arms. I want nothing to do with her anymore. She knows this and it's turned her spiteful."

Deanna dropped his hands. "Then why did you let her touch you the way she did out there?"

Prazak leaned back against the ledge. Taking up a more relaxed posture, he crossed his ankles and folded his arms over his chest. "Because that's how the nobility operates."

"But you're the Supreme Commander," Deanna countered.

"You'd think that meant something to them, but it doesn't. Not really. The simple fact of the matter is that, as a non-native of this planet, I cannot be considered nobility. Regardless of my position." Prazak chuckled and was happy to see a small crack of a smile on Deanna's lips. "And not that I'd want to be a part of their circle. They are a pretentious lot. In a way the actions of the Kindly One benefited Sardis by forcing the nobility to serve the people. But it also boosted their egos like you wouldn't believe. Hell, Deanna, you think I'm arrogant? Spend more than five minutes with one of those stuffy shirts and I'll come out looking like a damn Saint!"

That made her laugh. "You are arrogant."

"I prefer to think of it as confidence." Prazak laughed in return. "I couldn't stop Lady Sa from doing what she was doing without offending the nobility. Believe me, I hate it, but it is what it is. I'm trying to help the Empress see that the nobles truly do look down upon everyone else, especially the soldiers of her army. But I'm not sure it will change their behavior. At least not for some time."

"Is everyone here telepathic?" Deanna asked after a brief lull of silence.

"I should have warned you ahead of this dinner," Prazak stated. "That was my fault. But to answer your question, not everyone. The royal family and the nobility are, but most are not very powerful. They can project thoughts, read emotions, but not much more. They cannot manipulate or control someone using telepathic powers."

"How did you become telepathic?" Deanna asked next.

"The same way I stopped aging," Prazak confessed. "A side effect of the medicinal extract."

"So Herschel and Marking are as well?"

Prazak nodded. "Yes. But they do not use their telepathic abilities very often. I only do because the Empress, and her father and grandfather before her, used telepathy to communicate with me. Because of that my skills have become stronger than Wilhelm and John's."

"Immortality and telepathy," Deanna whistled. "No wonder you want to keep others away from your planet."

"We are not immortal, Deanna." Prazak reminded. "We simply stopped aging. You almost witnessed for yourself that we can still die. If it wasn't for your doctor's intervention, General Herschel would be dead."

"You are quite an oddity, Andrej," Deanna stated.

Prazak shrugged a little. "This is who I am."

"Being on a starship, surrounded by people," Deanna mused. "I still find myself lonely at times. Yearning for home. For Betazed. Do you miss home, Andrej?"

"Sardis is my home," he replied, even though he knew exactly what she meant.

Turning her head, she placed a hand on his forearm and smiled. "I meant Earth."

"I know you did," he responded softly. "Honestly, until you arrived, I hadn't thought of Earth in a very long time. Do I miss it? I don't know. I miss my family. I hate that they were taken from me. From life. My children never having a chance to grow up and experience all the world had to offer at the time."

"What Khan did was beyond cruel," Deanna whispered and squeezed his arm. "Pure evil."

Biting his bottom lip to stave off the memories and the anger, Prazak nodded. "But I know that if I had stayed, I'd be long since dead. Myself and all of them. I was given a second chance at life. Here. On Sardis. A chance to do something good for these people. It's why I continue to take the extract. They need me as much as I need them. Because if I keep going, keep fighting against the atrocities, in some strange way, it makes me feel that I'll be forgiven for not being able to save my family from Khan."

"Andrej," Deanna breathed.

He looked at her. Her face framed in the pale moonlight from beyond the window. She truly was beautiful. Smiling he said, "It's okay, you don't need to say anything."

She nodded a little before leaning up towards his lips. They kissed briefly, but there was a spark of passion there as well. When Deanna leaned back, she smiled. "What about your friends?"

"Herschel and Marking?" Prazak raised an eyebrow. "What about them?"

"Why do they continue to take the extract?"

A grin broke out on Prazak's face. "Because they are as stubborn as I am. They pledged their lives here on Sardis as well and basically said it's all of us or none of us. I really think they are just bullheaded and refuse to die before me."

"Sounds like typical men to me," Deanna chuckled.

"Pretty much." Andrej laughed. When they quieted down he reached over and placed two fingers on the underside of her chin, drawing her gaze back to him. "You okay?"

"I am now," Deanna replied.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he offered again.

Deanna kissed him, this time letting it deepen. When the kiss came to its natural end, Prazak smiled. "We should get back to the party before they notice we're gone. The Empress will be making her speech soon."

* * *

Picard listened with quiet respect as the young Empress recited the names of her soldiers that perished during both the rescue attempt and the battle in the village of La'trec.

He had been given a place at the main table which was perpendicular and centered at the head of the rest of the tables in the ancient hall. The Empress was at the center, with Prazak on her right and the Captain of her guard force on her left. Picard was to Prazak's right. Three others, senior nobility from what he'd been told, occupied the remaining seats. A soft rumbling from beneath the table, and a random thumping of a bushy and heavy tail against his feet, reminded Jean-Luc of Zoja's presence.

The rest of Picard's senior staff were seated at the nearest table and were accompanied by Colonel Marking and General Herschel. It was clear that Herschel was not completely healed, yet Picard was still amazed at the recovery speed of the augments versus regular humans. He also recognized a number of the soldiers that had participated in the battle, both wounded and those that had survived unscathed. And from the way the rest of the attendees addressed the soldiers it was clear they were indeed the ones being honored this evening, along with those that had paid the ultimate price.

The entire hall was entranced by the Empress' soliloquy. When she finished, every person in attendance stood. Even the wounded rose to their feet, albeit some a bit slower than others. The only ones that remained seated were those that could not stand due to their wounds. Raising cups in their right hands the people bellowed as one. Picard couldn't understand their words, but the actions were similar to those he'd witnessed at countless stately dinners, ambassadorial gatherings, or Federation balls and galas. The people of Sardis honored their fallen in the same fashion as countless other races and societies across the galaxy. Yet, no matter how many ceremonies Picard attended, each one was a unique experience. And tonight was no different. He shuddered at the chill that ran down his spine from the thought. As the Captain of the Federation's flagship, he knew all too well what it felt like to lose members within his command. It always stung and it never became easier.

"Now, please, enjoy the remainder of your evening. Our fallen will look down upon us and wish us peace and happiness. Their sacrifice will not be in vain," Tarina announced in the common language that Picard could understand.

The group made another chant then drank. Once the Empress sat, so did everyone else. At that moment, the musicians picked up their instruments, filling the hall with pleasant sounds while the low murmur of multiple conversations started to rise. Servers started to make their rounds, filling cups, and offering fully furnished plates of food to those at the head table. Picard noted that at the other tables, people served themselves.

"A very moving ceremony," Picard said to the Empress.

The young woman nodded. "It is the least we can do to honor our people. When the festivities end, I will return to the infirmary before retiring for the evening and deliver meals to those that can eat."

"We also ensure the families of the fallen are care for." Prazak sipped from his cup. "Not only this evening, but throughout the future."

"You mentioned names on the wall," Picard said.

Prazak set his cup down. "That is a private ceremony. Only the Empress, myself, and the families attend. The only exceptions are the woman that carves the names into the wall and any person or persons the families wish to have present."

"Traditions are extremely important," Picard replied.

"Yes," Prazak replied while slicing into his food.

"Captain Picard, tell me about some of the traditions you have witnessed during your travels," Tarina requested.

Picard smiled. The girl might be a ruler, but she was still a child and that childish curiosity bled over into her statement.

Setting down his fork and knife, Picard dabbed his lips with his cloth. "I've been to more worlds that I can count off the top of my head, Your Highness. I've seen countless ceremonies. Some I've merely witnessed and some I've participated in. For example, on Betazed, Counselor Troi's home world, marriages are conducted completely in the nude."

Tarina giggled and Prazak's lips curled downward. "Captain, please, remember your audience."

Tarina waved the General off. "Nonsense, Andrej. I find such a thing fascinating."

Prazak sighed, "Apologies, Empress."

Tarina shook her head a little and looked back towards Picard. "What else?"

Taking a moment, Picard recalled another interesting tradition to mind. "On Vulcan, marriages are arranged, but a female can challenge that bonding by calling for a 'koon-ut-kal-if-free'."

"What is that?" Captain Tristin asked from the other side of his charge.

"If a male challenges the prearranged marriage," Picard picked up his cup and took a sip, "the female calls for the ceremony in which the challenging male and bonded male fight." He took another sip. "To the death."

Tarina gasped.

"And you call us barbaric," Prazak smirked.

"I never called you barbaric, General," Picard corrected.

Prazak shrugged then took a bite of his food.

"Cardassians have a tradition known as the Shri-tal where, upon one's death bed, they reveal their closest secrets to the rest of their family. These secrets could then be used against the family's enemies."

"Strange," Tarina mused. "Yet I imagine it is fascinating to travel the stars."

"I wouldn't trade it for anything else," Picard said with a smile.

"You don't wish for a place to call home?" Tristin asked.

"The _Enterprise_ is my home." Picard smiled to the group. "I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be. But when we do get recalled to Earth, I always make an effort to return to France to see my birthplace."

Prazak swallowed his food. "Where in France?"

"La Barre," Picard answered. "Have you been to France, General Prazak?"

"Yes," Prazak replied evenly.

Prazak said no more and Picard decided not to press the man. Yet he did wonder what would have taken Prazak to the country. Perhaps his time in the military or more likely when he fought in the Eugenics Wars. Either way, Picard could read the other man's body language and saw it was a topic the General did not want to discuss.

 _He's definitely not making my decision any easier._

Setting his utensils down, Prazak looked to Tarina. "Your pardon, Empress?"

Tarina nodded. Prazak pushed back from the table and stood. "Excuse me, Captain."

Picard also nodded and watched Prazak as he left to make his way around the tables to socialize with the nobility and his soldiers alike. Zoja followed at her master's heels.

"Captain," Tarina stated, drawing Jean-Luc's attention back to her. "Regardless of General Prazak's, how should I say, sometimes frustrating interpersonal skills, he really is the man I need at the head of my military. Even more importantly, he is the leader Sardis needs."

"You are our leader, Your Highness," Tristin commented.

Tarina smiled at the Captain of her guard. "I appreciate that, Captain Tristin, but we all know that I am merely a political figure. Prazak is the real leader of Sardis. The people adore him and while he and the nobility do not always see eye to eye, they do respect him."

"I see the same when you interact with your people, Your Highness," Picard said.

"Perhaps, but I am no military commander. I'm not even a strategist like my father was." Tarina's eyes went sad and Picard imagined the thought of her father was the cause. "So you see, Captain Picard, Prazak and his men are truly a part of what keeps us safe. Both within the city and our lands beyond the wall. To lose them would be sentencing us to death and enslavement."

* * *

Riker's grin widened. "You guys better pace yourselves."

Worf slammed his empty cup on the table moments before Colonel Marking and another soldier did the same. "Klingons do not 'pace', Commander," Worf growled.

Marking made a sour face as his fellow scout refilled all the glasses. Riker smirked when he saw the younger man's hand shaking a little.

"This stuff is horrid," Marking hiccupped.

"I don't even know why we kept it in our stores." Herschel smiled. To the German's credit, he was restricting himself to no alcohol due to his injuries, but Riker could tell Herschel wasn't upset about being left out of the chugging contest.

Worf lifted his freshly refilled mug. "To appreciate the finer things in life, I assume."

Marking groaned while rolling his eyes. "Never thought I'd be drinking blood wine with a Klingon."

"And we never thought we'd be drinking with augments that fought in the Eugenics Wars," Riker countered lightheartedly.

Herschel bumped his friend in the arm. "Don't let him win, John. You'll never hear the end of it."

Marking swallowed hard. "Easy for you to say. You're not even drinking."

"Blame it on that Ti'hi scum," Herschel snarled.

Marking smirked. The three contestants raised their mugs and started to chug again. Those around them at the table started to take notice and cheered. Riker wasn't surprised they all cheered on their own and not Worf.

Once again Worf finished first, rattling the table as he hit the mug against it. Marking was clearly struggling and the other scout was done. Half way through his drink, the scout dropped the mug as his head fell to the table. Upset moans combined with laughter and some good natured ribbing followed.

But Marking prevailed and set his empty mug down. Riker was keeping track. That was number six.

 _This is gonna be painful for all of them tomorrow._

Deanna looked at Will. "When was the last time we witnessed something like this?"

"Never? I don't think Guinan condones drinking contests in Ten Forward," Riker replied.

"What did you say?" Herschel asked, an eyebrow arching upward.

Riker repeated himself and saw the two augments exchange wondering glances.

"What?" Riker questioned.

"Guinan?" Herschel asked. "We knew someone by that name once."

Riker had forgotten about that bit of information from the briefing. The briefing that felt like a lifetime ago. "I'm pretty sure she's one and the same."

Again the two men exchanged looks. Riker tried to decipher their body language, but was interrupted by Worf's bolstering. "Are we talking or drinking? Or should we move on to fighting?"

"You may be able to best us drinking this slop," Marking laughed, "but you already know you are no match against us with a sword."

"I did draw your comrade's blood," Worf reminded.

Another soldier took up the task of refilling the remaining contestants' cups.

"Only because he let you," Herschel chuckled. "Andrej's always been a showoff."

Riker kept grinning. Prazak had snuck up from behind. Slapping his powerful arms around the shoulders of his two friends, he leaned forward. "What was that, old friend?"

"He said you're a showoff," Marking replied with no fear.

"Says the guy who thinks he can outdrink a Klingon," Prazak responded playfully.

Marking huffed and raised his mug. Worf did the same and this time the Colonel downed the wine faster than Worf. Riker figured if it wasn't for Prazak holding his friend, Marking would have fallen back out of his seat. But the shortest, yet stockiest, of the three augments remained upright on his own when Prazak straightened back up.

Riker's hope had been that Marking would have opened up due to the drinking, but just like the evening in the pub Marking had not said much about the men's pasts, their lives on Sardis since they arrived, or their intentions if Captain Picard was forced to detain them. However, Riker had to assume that if it did come to that, the two augments would stand steadfast with Prazak and fight.

And now that Prazak had joined the group, Riker was certain Prazak's comrades would not reveal anything about their intentions. So he settled for just enjoying the rest of the evening; whatever was going to happen would happen.

* * *

Enjoying his food, Picard listened to the nobleman on his right. Short and pear shaped with a flat face puffy hair, the man exuded snobbishness. He'd introduced himself as Formic and the head of Architectural Designs for the Continued Prosperity of Sardis, prattled on about the latest plans for building additional schools within the city. While Picard found the conversation interesting, he imagined someone like Mister Data or Geordi La Forge would be more engrossed in the discussion. Picard was also tired, but he did not want to insult his hosts by asking to retire. Like most other events he'd attended, it seemed that no one here would leave until the Empress herself departed. And currently, Empress Tarina was deep in conversation with Captain Tristin and another noble.

Picard let the man drawl on and took another bite of his food. The meat had a similar taste and consistency to poultry, but the spices and seasoning really tantalized Picard's taste buds. He wasn't sure why he'd thought it, but he'd imagined the food on the cold, snow covered planet would have been bland and forgettable. He was glad he had been mistaken. Besides the chicken-like meat, Picard enjoyed a spread of vegetables and a mushy starchy dish that reminded him of home cooked potatoes. Overall, the food, and the drinks, were quite delectable.

Stifling a yawn, Picard nodded when Formic paused in his dialogue. Before either man could speak, however, the Captain's commbadge chirped.

"Pardon me, Sir?" Picard asked of Formic. The nobleman, giving the badge a curious look nodded and returned to his own plate without another word.

"Picard here," he answered while tapping the badge.

"Captain, its Doctor Crusher," Beverly's voice filtered out of the device. "Lt. Dickerson is awake and coherent."

Crusher had opted to stay with the rescued man in the infirmary, foregoing the invitation to the dinner. Picard had agreed and so had the Empress. Crusher could do more good down there than mingling with Sardis' upper crust.

"Understood, Doctor," Picard replied. Looking about he noted that Tarina had turned her attention to him. Prazak also had returned and stood in front of the table. Picard couldn't help but smirk; attributing Prazak's sudden presence to the man's keen sense of hearing, having picked up the chime of the badge over the murmur of conversation within the hall.

"Captain, if possible, I suggest you come down here," Crusher shot back. Even over the communication device, Picard could hear the concern in his Chief Medical Officer's tone. "Dickerson has been talking and I think you'll want to hear what he has to say."

"On my way."

Rising from his seat, he looked at the Empress. "Will you excuse me, Your Highness."

"Of course." Tarina rose too. As did everyone else at the table. "Perhaps I will see you down there. My people are preparing the meals for the wounded and they should be ready soon." Then she looked at Prazak. "Escort the Captain, General."

Prazak, hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword, bowed his head. "Yes, Your Highness."

"And take General Herschel with you," Tarina ordered. "His temporary release from the infirmary is just that. Make sure Belan clears him before he returns to his home for the evening."

"Of course." Prazak smiled. "The stubborn old man won't get out so easily, Empress."

Tarina laughed then waved her hand.

Prazak looked towards Picard. "Captain?"

Picard felt like he should protest, but he honestly wasn't surprised. The Empress was still just as hesitant about Picard and his crew as Picard was in regards to Prazak and his men. Even though the dinner had helped to relieve some of the tension, an air of slight distrust still remained.

As he rounded the table to join the General, Picard set aside the thoughts of Prazak and the words of his ruler, opting to think about the concern that was clear in Doctor Crusher's voice. It appeared Dickerson might be ready to shed some light on his own situation, but for some reason the ball of dread that formed in Picard's gut from such a thought was suddenly quite disturbing.

 _Somehow I don't think I'm going to like what I hear._

* * *

 **To Be Continued…**


	14. Chapter 14

,

 **Chapter 14**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I apologize for another delay. I've been very busy at work and had little time for reviewing and editing. Was also on a short trip last weekend, so didn't have much time. I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you!**

* * *

The tension was thick the entire journey to the infirmary, even though no one had spoken a word. Standing to the left, Picard kept stride with Prazak as he led the way swiftly back through the halls of the tower to the military complex below the surface. Even with all the traveling through these same halls he'd done earlier, Picard still imagined he'd find himself lost without the aid of an escort. General Herschel was present as well and even with his injuries, the blonde augment was keeping pace. The cat, Zoja, had stayed behind with the Empress and Marking. Picard remembered hearing that the cat did as she pleased, even though she accompanied Prazak more often than not.

Picard attributed the lack of conversation being due to the ever increasing strain of the current predicament. Sometimes he wonder if the only thing stopping Prazak from cutting down each of the Starfleet personnel was the looming threat that orbited Sardis.

 _Or it could be the fact that he's not a murderer._

There was that too. Counselor Troi was still insistent that Prazak's tortured past was the man's motivation for his continued existence on Sardis. That and his loyalty to those he serves.

 _Guinan had said the same thing. Prazak was unquestionably loyal._

And even that was difficult for Picard to wrap his mind around. It was a strange concept based on what the Federation knew about the children of eugenics, as Herschel had called the group. Yet everything Picard had witnessed leaned towards these men being different than what history claimed. And he trusted the words and insight of both his ship's Counselor and his friend in Ten Forward.

 _If only Starfleet Command felt the same way._

These men had seemed to disprove the belief that all augments were just like Khan. Which brought Picard's mind back his ultimate moral dilemma. If he chose not to arrest Prazak and his two friends, what would he tell Starfleet? How could he convince the admiralty that Prazak was not a threat to the Federation? He'd definitely have to return to the _Enterprise_ and have another discussion with Guinan. Perhaps she'd remembered more about Andrej Prazak now that she knew he was alive.

Her and Counselor Troi.

Troi.

That reminded Picard of another issue nagging in the back of his mind.

"General," Picard said as they walked. "I'd like to ask you a question."

Without looking in Picard's direction, Prazak replied, "Yes?"

Picard inhaled. This was about to get uncomfortable. "I'd like to know what, if anything, is the nature of your relationship with Counselor Troi."

Mid-stride, Prazak froze. Picard halted just as quickly to avoid jostling against the man's arm. Prazak's head swiveled slowly. The expression he wore was one Picard couldn't clearly read.

Herschel paused momentarily. "I'll meet you in the infirmary."

Prazak nodded to his friend, who smirked in return then headed down the passageway.

"What do you mean, Captain?" Prazak asked coolly when they were alone.

"We're both grown men, General." Picard folded his arms over his chest. "I think you know what I mean."

"Do you require your personnel to clear their private relationships with you?" Prazak scoffed.

Picard narrowed his eyes. "General, it's a matter of safety. The safety of my crew. I'm not a fool. I can see what is going on. I do not require my crew to report to me the nature of their personal lives or who they spend their free time with. However, in this circumstance,-"

Prazak cut him off. "You feel your Counselor is in danger because she and I are attracted to one another." It wasn't a question. "I can respect your position, Captain, and I assure you that I know fully well that when you depart she will leave. I would never ask her to stay. I know her heart is with Starfleet. She and I have already spoken about it. But we are two consenting adults, Captain. And you have my word, as a man of honor, that I would not hurt any of your crew. Especially Deanna Troi. So perhaps you can accept that your Counselor is free to make her own decisions. And that neither of us should have to justify anything to you in regards to the matter."

Picard swallowed hard. Prazak was right. And while he hadn't come out and said it, the implication was there. Picard was convinced that Prazak and Troi were sleeping together. As the Captain, he could order Troi to return to the ship, but he knew that wouldn't do any good. And he truly needed her unique skills and perspectives here. Another course of action was to order her to stay away from Prazak if it became necessary. However, at the moment, he did not believe that was the case. Yet.

Managing a small smile, Picard nodded. "You're right, General."

He was pleasantly surprised to see Prazak's demeanor soften. "Believe me, Captain, I understand your position and where you are coming from. As a leader, it is your duty to look out for the best interests of those you command. But like I said, you do not have to worry about Counselor Troi. She is in no danger here. Not from me or anyone else."

Picard nodded slightly. "Thank you."

Prazak gestured down the hall. "We are almost there."

Falling back in step, Picard changed the subject. "How long did it take you to memorize the layout of your facilities?"

"I've been here for a very long time, Captain." Prazak laughed. "And I did help construct this place. But I imagine it was probably about the same for me as it was for you on your starships."

"I see your point," Picard mused.

"Are your starships all designed in the same fashion? I mean, are the layouts the same?" Prazak asked next.

There was nothing in Prazak's tone to indicate his question was anything more than simple curiosity. Still, Picard, chose to keep his answer vague. "Not all of them."

"I imagine it must be quite a magnificent vessel," Prazak stated. "I am no engineer, but I always found the things humans to be capable of quite interesting. One time, back on Earth, I stood beneath the Saturn V rocket that was on display in the United States. I was truly in awe. But I'm sure that is nothing compared to your ships."

"The Saturn V program is an important part of human history," Picard said. "Those scientists laid the groundwork that led others to develop warp technology after the wars. Fast forward a few generations and here we are today."

A thought clicked in Picard's mind just then. He stopped. Prazak did the same. "Captain?"

"General, may I ask how you got here from Earth?"

The edges of the augment's lips curled upward a tad. "I was wondering if you'd ever ask that question."

Arching an eyebrow, Picard waited.

Prazak sighed. "I don't know how much you've learned about our time on Earth after the war."

"Guinan told me a little," Picard replied.

Prazak visibly blinked.

"So you remember her?" Picard smiled.

Scratching his stubble, Prazak grinned. "I do. I haven't thought about her in ages, but that is one woman that is not easily forgotten."

"She said the same about you." Picard chuckled. Prazak must have known that Guinan wasn't human for he didn't seem surprised to hear she was alive. "What she didn't say was how you got here. She didn't know."

"Not many people did," Prazak agreed. "In fact, besides Mister Seven, Ms. Lincoln and a handful of their confidants, no one else knew of our escape."

"Escape? That's an interesting choice of words."

Prazak shrugged. "We escaped persecution. Not because we were guilty of any crimes, but because we were seen as being just as dangerous as Khan. Because of him, our kind were no longer welcome on Earth. Even though we helped save it. The commoners feared us. Governments issued decrees that if an augment was discovered we were to be executed immediately. No charges. No trials. No defense. Just death."

"The war generated fear and panic." Picard frowned.

Prazak nodded. "Sound familiar?"

Picard's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Prazak held up a hand.

"I do not need to hear excuses, Captain." When Picard closed his lips, Prazak continued. "We fled. Khan's sleeper ship was a prototype, but scientists were already building additional vessels. We managed to remain hidden for almost a year, thanks to Mister Seven, until the next ship was finished. He programmed the ship to bring us here. However, just like Khan we were found before we arrived."

"Wait. How do you know Khan was discovered by another starship?"

Prazak's sly smirk reappeared. "You are not the only one that can access information from other sources. I admit, my tactic was intrusive and slightly unethical, however I had to know more about why Starfleet had come to my planet. We may not look advanced to you, Captain, based on our weaponry, but trust me when I tell you we are more advanced than you think. We only fight with more primitive weapons because they are the best for penetrating the hide, muscle structure, and bones of the Ti'hi."

"You hacked into the _Enterprise_ 's databanks?" Picard asked. It sounded unlikely, but what other explanation was there?

Prazak shrugged, ignoring Picard's question. "Anyway, we were found, but not by a Starfleet vessel. It was a merchant ship. When they woke us, we paid the Captain what Seven had given us to bring us to this planet. It wasn't enough for him, so we agreed to work as laborers on board his ship until we reached Sardis. We kept our identities secret, but we were able to communicate thanks to the servos Seven provided. The Captain allowed us to read through the logs and that was how we learned what year it was and about Starfleet in general."

Picard exhaled, not realizing he'd been holding his breath. "Quite a tale."

"At one point during the journey, the merchant ship met with a ship from Starfleet. A supply transfer or something. We worked with the Starfleet personnel that were moving the equipment to their vessel. We were able to see some of the ship. Just the cargo hold and a shuttlecraft. When I saw your shuttlecraft near the Frozen Lake I knew that it was from Starfleet, even though it was more advanced than the one I saw years ago."

"And after that you were brought here?" Picard wanted to know.

Prazak nodded. "Yes. There were no more rendezvous with other vessels and the rest of the journey was relatively boring. Our hosts taught us a game called tongo which we played quite often to pass the time."

Picard chuckled. "You were rescued by the Ferengi."

"It was the first time we saw an alien, with the exception of Guinan, but she looks like you and I, Captain. I didn't really believe Guinan was an alien until later," Prazak responded. "As for the Ferengi, quite a culture shock if you ask me."

"I'm surprised the Captain didn't try to bamboozle you for more money when you arrived here. Ferengi are notorious traders and hustlers."

Prazak ignored the remark. "So, Captain, you can see that my followers and I were nothing like Khan. Where Khan attempted to take over the ship that saved him and his people, we simply wanted to be left alone. Khan was a murderer and I have not one shred of sympathy that he suffered before he died. He destroyed countless lives. He deserved his fate. I am not a religious man, not after all I've seen, both here and on Earth. Yet, if there is a Hell, I hope Khan is burning in it."

Picard assimilated Prazak's words. The General's hatred for his genetically engineered "brother" was very real. Picard's thoughts drifted back to the story Troi shared. The story of Khan's murderous actions against Prazak and his family. He wondered, if he'd ever ended up in a similar position as the augment, would he have acted differently? Picard wanted to say yes. That he'd let the law do what it was designed to do, but did that mean Prazak's decision was still wrong?

"Captain Picard?"

Inhaling slightly, Picard glanced at the General. They'd arrived at the infirmary.

Stepping inside, Prazak motioned towards the back then stepped away, joining Herschel and the Sardis doctor that was examining him.

The infirmary was quieter, less crowded than it had been earlier. Patients occupied about half of the beds and no soldiers sat on the floor anymore. The medical staff attended their charges, speaking in muted and hushed tones. Picard avoided the staff, ensuring he didn't get in the way of their duties as he headed for the room that was still guarded by two armor and helmet clad soldiers.

The soldiers allowed him to enter without challenging him.

Closing the door, Picard cleared his throat.

Crusher looked up from her padd. Over the years, Picard had seen the same tired and exhausted expression on his Chief Medical Officer's face that she wore now. Sighing, Beverly slipped the padd into her jacket and met Picard at the door.

"How was the dinner?" She asked warmly.

"Interesting," Picard answered. "I told Commander Riker to ensure you get something to eat."

Beverly smiled. "I appreciate that. Now that you mention food, my stomach is responding."

"How's the patient?" Picard inquired.

Dickerson was on the bed, his back propped up against a mountain of pillows. Picard could tell the man was awake, but he stared at the wall across from him, not even turning to acknowledge that someone had entered the room.

"He's calm. When he woke from the sedatives, I expected another bout of panic, but all he did was ask to speak with you. He's been waiting patiently ever since."

"Understood." Stepping forward, Picard paused when Crusher placed a hand on his arm.

"Jean-Luc, I'm still a bit apprehensive here," Crusher stated, her voice low.

"Explain."

"Like I said before, except for his strange spurts of apparent madness, he doesn't have any of the other signs we normally associate with prolonged captivity."

"Not every person reacts or deteriorates the same way when held captive, Doctor," Picard replied.

"I know." Crusher lowered her head for a moment, then looked back up at him. "Perhaps you should speak with him to form your own opinion."

Reaching down, Picard placed a hand over hers, squeezed a little, then removed her hand from his arm.

Approaching the bed, Picard felt Crusher's presence at his side. Dickerson continued to stare at the wall, even when Picard was right next to him.

"Lieutenant, how are you feeling?" Picard said.

Slowly, Dickerson turned to look at the Captain. His sunken eyes held something that Picard could not interpret, but whatever it was, it sent a chill down the Captain's spine. The darkness that emanated from the Lieutenant's orbs was both mesmerizing and terrifying.

Then it disappeared. Dickerson blinked. He smiled a little. "Captain, thank you for coming to see me."

Picard stared at the man. "You're a Federation citizen. It is our duty to ensure your health and safety. But I must admit, I have some questions for you, Lieutenant. The information you gave us before was not entirely accurate. However, I understand that you may be misremembering some things due to what has happened to you."

Dickerson continued to stare at Picard without commenting.

Taking a deep breath, Picard asked, "What is your first name, Lieutenant?"

A furrow appeared on Dickerson's brow. After a moment, he replied, "I think it's...Matthew."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

"I can't remember for sure," Dickerson assured.

Picard set it aside for now. "You told Doctor Crusher you wanted to speak with me."

Dickerson's head bobbed up and down. Picard watched attentively as the Lieutenant's gaze drifted towards the closed door where it lingered for a few moments before he looked back at Jean-Luc. "Is he here?"

"Who?" Picard questioned. He knew who Dickerson meant, but he wanted the other man to say it.

"The General. The Specter," Dickerson whispered.

"You referred to him that way before. Why? Those creatures that held you prisoner call him that. Why do you do so as well?" Picard questioned.

Dickerson shrunk a little under Picard's scrutiny; his voice barely audible when he said, "Do not trust him, Captain."

"Why?" Picard prodded.

Dickerson licked his lips. "He is a lair. A deceiver."

"His soldiers rescued you, Lieutenant," Crusher gently reminded.

"Did they?" Dickerson's head tilted to the side.

Picard couldn't determine if the Lieutenant's statement was in response to Crusher's statement or a more sinister suggestion that the raid was something else.

"We were there, Lieutenant," Picard answered. "We witnessed it with our own eyes."

"Your eyes can be deceiving too," Dickerson smirked.

Picard frowned. "Tell me about the distress beacon. How was it activated?"

"I don't know," Dickerson said. "I was in a cell, remember?"

Not liking the sudden change in the Lieutenant's tone, Picard set his jaw. "So you're claiming you did not activate the beacon?"

"Ask General Prazak." Dickerson shrugged.

Picard shook his head, taken aback. "What would he know of it?"

"I told you, Captain, he is a liar. A deceiver. He is also a murderer." Dickerson made a clicking noise with his tongue at the end of his sentence.

"I have seen no evidence-,"

Dickerson sat up straighter. "Of course you haven't, Captain! Because he is that good. You won't see it until he rams his longsword through your back. When it's already too late. Then he will take what he desires."

"And what does he desire?" Picard questioned, refusing to be deterred by Dickerson's claim.

"Your ship," Dickerson stated. "He wants your ship. So he can return to Earth and destroy those that banished him."

Picard glanced at Crusher. Looking back at Dickerson, he asked, "You know of Prazak's true identity. How?"

Dickerson shook his head. "That doesn't matter. Just know that what I'm saying is true, Captain. He has only told you what he wants you to believe."

"I believe it does matter, Lieutenant. How do you know all this information?"

Rubbing his eyes, Dickerson sighed. "I'm tired."

Picard was firm. "I'm not done speaking with you, Lieutenant."

"Well, I am done, Captain," Dickerson shot back.

Without taking his eyes off the man, Picard addressed Beverly. "Doctor Crusher, ensure the Lieutenant here is ready to transport back to the ship."

Dickerson perked back up. "No!"

Picard smiled inwardly. He knew he could get Dickerson talking again. "You wish to stay here? Why? You are currently in a facility operated by a man that you claim is a murderer. Why would you wish to stay in his custody?"

Dickerson's mouth clamped shut.

"Tell me the truth, Lieutenant," Picard insisted. "Who are you and what are you really doing here? Why was a Klingon beacon found alongside the Starfleet one? Why are you scared of Prazak, yet refuse to leave?"

Dickerson shook his head, but said nothing.

"There was no diplomatic transport, was there, Lieutenant?"

"There was," Dickerson insisted.

Picard remained steadfast. "Tell me what your mission really was. Tell me who sent you here."

Dickerson started to fidget. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. "No one sent us here, Captain. We crashed. The others died. I don't know why you won't believe me. I'm telling you the truth! And what I say about Prazak is true. I witnessed his murderous actions with my own eyes."

"What does that mean?" Picard asked.

"Those creatures didn't kill my companions. Prazak did! He would have killed me too, but I managed to escape. I refuse to leave unti because Prazak pays for his crimes."

"Really?" Picard whistled.

Dickerson's tone went cold. His eyes shone with the earlier strangeness. When he spoke, his words were dually laced with ice and fire. "Captain, kill him. Kill Prazak now. Kill him before he murders you and every last member of your crew."

* * *

Seated around the table, Picard glanced at each of his officers in turn. They'd returned from the dinner and Picard had filled them in on the conversation with Dickerson.

He spoke candidly with his senior staff. "I feel even more conflicted now than before. Every time I lean towards the idea that Prazak is in the right, something happens to make me doubt my stance. Suggestions?"

Riker was the first to speak. "Even with all we've seen so far, I don't think we should discount Dickerson's statements, Sir. We should at least give him the benefit of the doubt before we side with Prazak. I'm not saying Prazak is lying, his actions certainly have saved us on more than one occasion, but I also don't think he's being completely honest either."

Picard nodded then focused his attention on Worf. As much as the Klingon attempted to hide it, Picard new his security chief was at least slightly intoxicated.

Mouth set in a straight line, Worf added, "I agree with Commander Riker. We should be siding with one of our own."

"Even though Prazak has shown no ill will towards us?" Picard challenged.

The slightest hint of doubt appeared on his second officer's face. "He could be biding his time. If what Dickerson said is true, that Prazak wants the _Enterprise_ , it's not beyond reason that he could have set this entire thing up. We only know what they've told us. Who's to say they really found the beacon in that underground cave? It could have been all for show."

"Prazak could have discovered the crashed shuttlecraft," Worf surmised in support of Riker. "He could have killed everyone on board, yet somehow Dickerson escaped. Since the craft was damaged, or because he didn't know how to operate it, Prazak was unable to use it to leave. So he found the beacon set it up and waited."

From his side, Picard heard Troi's sigh. "Counselor? Your thoughts?"

Scooting forward in her chair, Troi folded her hands together on the table. "I think we are looking for reasons to justify Starfleet's orders, Sir. What harm have these men done to the Federation? We take the word of a man that was held captive by Prazak's enemies. What's to say he's hasn't been indoctrinated into the Ti'hi's cause?"

"Stockholm Syndrome," Crusher added. "It is possible."

"Do we really want to take the risk of finding out for sure?" Riker interjected with a dark look at Troi. "We've found the source of the beacon. I say we report back to Starfleet and be on our way."

"Without Prazak and his men?" Picard asked. "I have my orders, Will."

"He's already stated he won't leave," Riker countered. "Perhaps detaining one of them could be possible. But all three? Let's not forget what they are. They could easily overpower us. If Starfleet wants them, let them send another ship to rendezvous with the _Enterprise_. Then we return and take them into custody with force."

"Are you really suggesting an armed conflict to detain three men, Will? The only reason they'd fight us if we carried through with detainment." Troi set her black orbs on Will. "I suggest we leave them be."

Riker's voice rose an octave. "And what do we tell Starfleet Command, Deanna? Are you seriously recommending to the Captain that we defy orders because you're infatuated with Prazak?"

"That's enough," Picard cut in before Troi could counter Riker's jab. "This isn't a discussion meant to assign blame to any of us. Prazak has shown us many things, but it could all be a clever deception."

"Or it could not be," Troi mumbled. "Someone is lying, I admit. Yet we automatically assume it's Prazak."

"Captain," Crusher started. "Perhaps using the _Enterprise_ 's databanks we can keep searching for more information on Dickerson. Like we've already said, perhaps he is just not remembering things correctly. He gave us a first name. Let's use that to dig deeper. If we can prove his claim of transporting a diplomat is true, then it would seem likely that the rest of his story is true as well."

"And if it's not?" Troi stated. "What then?"

"That is something I shall decide if that time comes," Picard responded. With a sigh, he changed the tone of his voice in an effort to calm the room. "Weather permitting, I'll return to the _Enterprise_ in the morning. Doctor Crusher, I want you to stay with Dickerson, find out whatever you can from him. Will, Deanna, Worf, tomorrow you will go with Prazak and his men back to the underground cave. Document not only their actions, but also what you find there. Recover any of our technology, whether its usable or otherwise."

Each officer acknowledged the orders.

Standing, Picard tugged on the bottom of his tunic. "It's been an extremely long day. I suggest everyone get some rest. Prazak has assured me, more than once, that we are all safe within his city. However, for tonight, we all need to stay here. Dismissed."

The others stood. As they moved off to their respective rooms, Picard called softly, "Counselor, a moment."

Troi paused. Picard saw the look that passed between her and Riker, but it only lasted a moment before Will disappeared into his own room.

When Troi turned to face him, Picard gestured for her to take a seat again. She did and Picard followed. "Counselor, I know this is difficult for you."

"Captain," Troi started.

Picard held up a hand. "Deanna, please, let me finish. Prazak connected with you on many levels. He told me about your relationship."

"Did he?" Troi breathed.

Picard smiled a little. For the briefest of moments, he found himself turning fatherly. But in a way, he was just that. He was the Captain and these officers served under his command. He cared for them as if they were family. Because in fact, that is just how he saw them. Family.

"Well, not in so many words, but I was able to infer," he admitted.

"Captain, if you order me to stop meeting with him, I will," Troi cut in. "However, I feel the connection I share with Prazak can be vital in learning the truth. Everything he has told me, everything he has shown me, feels genuine. I just don't understand why no one else can see it."

"Commander Riker thinks you've been biased by your relationship with Prazak. Your judgment compromised." Picard leaned back and waited for her response.

"Captain, my relationship with Will is no secret. The bond he and I share will always be there, even with us no longer being a couple. I've been able to move on, yet it seems he can't. At least not when it comes to my relationships. I never question what he does with his life. I don't appreciate him questioning my decisions. I do not find his accusations in regards to myself and Prazak relevant. If anyone is biased, its Commander Riker, not me."

 _Jealousy. As much as Picard yearned for an intimate, long term relationship, it was times like these he was glad he did not have one. It was hard enough dealing with the emotions of his crew, he couldn't imagine having to deal with something like Deanna and Will's relationship in his own life._

"That is something the two of you have to work through on your own," Picard replied sympathetically. "My role is to ensure your safety here and now."

"Prazak would never hurt me," Troi stated firmly.

"You sound so confident." Picard smiled a little.

"Because I am." Troi nodded. "And I say that because it goes beyond the physical. That is what non-telepaths or empaths can never truly understand. I won't lie to you, Captain. Yes, General Prazak and I have slept together. But before that happened, he showed me the things I told you about. I cannot explain how real the experience was for me. I was there. I watched it all unfold. I felt his pain. Real pain. When he buried his family. When he spoke to Gary Seven. When Khan called his wife a whore. It was real, Captain."

"And that's why you believe everything else as well." It wasn't a question.

Troi nodded. "I believe Prazak over Dickerson. I know that's not what you want to hear, Captain, but I truly believe if one of them is lying, its Dickerson. At the very least, he's covering something up. Not giving us the entire truth. If he is a Federation citizen as he claims, he would know Federation laws. He would know that we do not sentence people to death. Yet he told you to kill Prazak. Not arrest him. Kill him. My question is, why. Why does he want the General dead?"

Using his index finger and thumb, Picard rubbed his eyes. "That is an interesting question, Counselor."

"And one we should have answered before we move forward, wouldn't you agree, Captain?"

Picard chewed on the inside of his bottom lip and pondered the idea. He had one more question for his Counselor. "Deanna, I appreciate your unique insight into this matter. But I need to hear something from you. If I decide that arresting Prazak and his men is what must be done, you will support that decision without hesitation, yes?"

And without hesitating, Troi replied, "Yes, Captain. Without hesitation."

* * *

When dawn arrived, the sky was brisk and clear. Clad in his normal battle armor, heavy fur lined cloak and equipped with his dual swords, Prazak stood in the courtyard next to his command vehicle. Careening his neck, he watched Captain Picard's shuttlecraft depart. As it ascended, it rapidly became smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a black speck against the morning light. A blink of the eye later and it was gone.

Sighing, Prazak turned his attention to the three Starfleet officers that approached. Commander Riker and the Klingon were intercepted by Colonel Marking, who directed them to another vehicle further back in the column.

"I still do not know what to do about these ones," Prazak grumbled.

Zoja, sitting back on her haunches, mewed at his words.

"Don't worry, Zoja my dear, all will be right in the end," Prazak stated and received another worried mew from the Davnora cat.

Troi was heading straight for him. Her stride was one of someone that was determined and dead set in her course as she cut a path through the previous night's snowfall to stand before him.

"It is cold this morning," Prazak said when the Betazoid woman reached him. "Not riding with your friends?"

"I thought the cold didn't bother you," Deanna responded with a nod of her head. She didn't say anything in response to the second statement, Andrej noted with curious intrigue.

"I was hoping you'd have come by last night," Prazak stated versus asking about her friends again. "When I left the infirmary..."

"I felt you searching for me, Andrej," Troi said before he could finish.

"Only searching, I did not intrude," Prazak remarked quickly.

Deanna sighed, a thick puff of cold air swishing past her lips. "I know, Andrej. I couldn't come by last night. There was too much going on."

"If you were upset about Lady Sa...if you still are..."

Troi shook her head. Prazak found himself stricken by the way her hair tussled in time with her movements and the slight breeze. "It wasn't that. I just needed time to think. This man you rescued has caused a lot of doubt."

"Doubt about what?" Prazak asked.

Deanna's eyes locked with his. "You, Andrej. You."

"I don't see why,-"

"Tell me the truth, Andrej. Right now. Did you know anything about this man prior to us finding him?"

Prazak's eyes narrowed. "I told you I did not. That is the truth."

He held her gaze until she finally nodded. "I knew it, but I was starting to second guess my instincts. I'm sorry, Andrej."

She looked away from him; down the row of vehicles. Looking the same way, he saw Riker a few vehicles back, staring at them with a look of anger spread across his face. He wasn't even trying to hide his displeasure at the situation.

Prazak smiled. "He still loves you."

Deanna sighed. "I know."

"Do you still love him?"

"That doesn't matter," Troi replied. She stepped towards the rear of the vehicle and climbed through the open hatch.

Prazak continued to stare down Riker. When a snarl spread across the bearded man's face, the edge of Prazak's lips curled upward. Riker's frown deepened, but Prazak looked away, heading to the back of the vehicle to join Counselor Troi.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: For those that might have noticed this chapter was posted then disappeared. Well, thanks to one reviewer, some errors were pointed out. I pulled the chapter, corrected, had a credentialed friend review/beta, and now am reposting. Sorry for the confusion!**

 **Thank you to all that have read and left reviews. Please continue to enjoy.**

* * *

Stale air and mustiness preceded the stench of the underground caves. Following behind General Prazak, Colonel Marking and a handful of Sardis soldiers, Riker was at least thankful that the cavern was warmer that the frigidness of the planet's surface. He still couldn't fathom how Prazak and his people had grown accustomed to living in such harsh conditions. And Riker had grown up in Alaska. A state that was infamous for its harsh winter weather. According to Prazak, this wasn't even the worst the weather had to offer.

Chuckling to himself, Riker mused, _Alaska has nothing on Sardis._

But for the moment, he concentrated on the small positives aspects of their current predicament. He was happy to be out of the cold, even if it meant dealing with the foulness of the Ti'hi's underground city. In reality, he'd rather be back on the _Enterprise_. Back exploring the galaxy or running any number of missions other than determining the fate of three men from Earth's past. Yet more often than not, this was exactly the type of unexpected missions the _Enterprise_ would encounter. Responding to one incident, just to be thrown into another. At least it kept things interesting and for that Riker wouldn't change his profession for anything. The chance to explore the unknown, encounter new and strange species and worlds, and serve with the finest officers and crew Starfleet had to offer. And under the best Captain he'd ever known. The entire senior staff had become his second family and Riker had vowed he'd do anything for them. Anything at all. Up to and including giving his own life to save one of theirs.

It was that protective instinct, combined with his unique attachment to Deanna, that caused the frown to creep beneath Riker's beard. Staring at Prazak's back, his mood grew blacker and he found himself devising ways to make the General pay for his influence over Troi.

And then there was Troi herself. Will had tried to reason with her, tried to get her to see that her infatuation with the General was pointless. There was only two possible outcomes for Prazak, he stayed here or he was taken into Starfleet custody. Neither of which would benefit Troi. Neither of which would allow this relationship the two had developed to last. Yet, she refused to even listen to him. Refused to listen to reason.

Riker wanted the best for Deanna no matter what. But he couldn't dismiss that small nagging in his insides. That slight pang of jealousy. He remembered when Deanna would look at Will the same way she currently looked at Prazak. Will knew that was one of the things that hurt the most. And he couldn't help but think that Prazak was just leading Deanna on. Having a bit of fun with the woman while she was here.

 _And what makes you think that about him? Again, Will, is it because it's the truth about the man or because you're jealous of him? How about thinking about what Deanna wants instead of yourself. And you know what she wants right now, Will. You're just afraid to admit it. She wants you to stop dictating how she lives her life._

Riker frowned at the internal thoughts. He didn't feel he was dictating anything, just trying to help a friend. No. More than a friend. His Imzadi. Even if they were no longer together, he still shared that bond with Troi. A bond that couldn't be broken, no matter how many mistakes Will had made in the past.

He had to get Troi out of his mind. He could feel the anger it was causing beginning to swell and the last thing he wanted was to let his emotion guide his actions. Will had to stay focused. Treat the remainder of this mission as he did any other mission. With logic and reason. Not emotion.

 _Sometimes I envy Data._

A new thought emerged. Will knew that getting through to Deanna would be futile. At least at the moment. Yet, Will could possibly convince Prazak that leaving Troi alone was in everyone's best interest.

 _Good luck with that. Prazak's arrogant. And he's telepathic. He'll never listen to reason._

Will pushed the thought away. He'd have to try. He was fairly certain that Prazak wouldn't physically harm any of the Starfleet personnel unless threatened. Prazak may be pretentious, but he wasn't stupid. In fact, the augment's intelligence more than likely surpassed that of most normal humans. So he'd have to know that if he did attack any of the _Enterprise_ crew, Starfleet would retaliate. And that was a fight that even the genetically engineered General couldn't possibly win.

 _Then it's settled. I just have to find the right moment to speak with him. Alone. Have a talk. Man to man._

With his mind set, Riker's concentration drifted back to the present. They'd descended deeper into the caverns while he'd been lost in his own head. Ahead was an opening. Past the threshold Riker could make out movements and shadows in the burnt orange glare that illuminated the space beyond.

The group didn't stop. With a faint sigh, Riker looked between Worf and Troi. "Keep your wits about you. Anything can happen."

He was relieved when neither argued with his orders. He knew Worf wouldn't, but he'd been unsure of Troi. But Deanna simply nodded and fell in step with her fellow officers.

The far side of the threshold opened up into an expansive cavern that reached far above and far below the ledge they were on. Pathways cut from stone criss-crossed with suspension bridges crafted from wood and rope ran as far as the eye could see. Some even disappeared into dark corners where the glow from the burning torches and makeshift light sources didn't reach.

Prazak looked over his shoulder. "Follow me. Watch your footing. Zoja, stay here."

Without waiting for a reply, he stepped over the edge. His soldiers followed. The cat grumbled than lied down, her tail thumping as her master disappeared over the edge.

Joining the men, Riker found they were descending stone steps; making their way down to what appeared to be a central area. The steps were jagged and uneven, yet each had a small area that had been worn smooth from use. The only thing saving anyone that traversed the treacherous path from plunging off into the blackness below was two shaky wooden railings that snaked along the edges of the stairway.

Sounds echoed within the cave; voices of the soldiers already there; heavy objects being dragged across stone; faint mumbling and what sounded like crying. Riker remembered the captured Ti'hi in the village and the sounds they made when they were terrified of Prazak. The muffled wailings were similar.

 _They did say they'd taken captives._

Riker watched his steps. "What is this place?"

Prazak didn't look back. "It appears the Ti'hi have built some sort of city. A community if you will."

"And this isn't normal?" Troi questioned, her hands hovering near Riker for balance.

"Not at all," Prazak replied.

"We've never seen something this complex before," Marking added. Of all the soldiers traversing the steps, Riker noted that the Colonel was the most sure footed.

 _Probably comes with being a scout._

"This is complex?" Worf huffed. "It looks like a bunch of hovels shackled together."

"For the Ti'hi, yes," Marking answered evenly.

Riker had to agree with Worf. The scene that was quickly coming into view was definitely more primitive than advanced. The wood and rope bridges were just the start. Shacks, some stacked atop one another, littered the area. Most were little more than four walls strapped together, but some were a bit more complex. Tattered cloth had been used to cover holes that served as windows as well as makeshift awnings above the doors. Garbage was strewn about and piled down narrow passageways that resembled alleys. Alleys ending in more darkness. Tables, chairs, and cooking pots were in front of some of the shacks, reminding Riker of markets and gathering places he'd seen on countless planets before. Torches had been placed in stands and the light they cast caused shadows to dance all around, creating an eerie and disturbing atmosphere. And while the torches provided some warmth the real heat, however, rose from the depths below. And keeping anyone from teetering over the edges were more wooden and metal railings.

"You said they were scavengers. Do you think they built all this just from scavenging?" Troi asked when they were all off the steps and staring at the small village before them.

"I don't know," Prazak grumbled. "I'm more concerned with why they've formed such a community."

"Do these people generally not live in such large groups?" Riker said.

Prazak turned to face them as his soldiers peeled away to interact with others already moving about the shantytown. Marking stayed at his side. "No. They have a tribal mentality and do not veer away from their tribes. Their hierarchal system is pretty brutal, based on a strongest will rule mindset. That's how the Chieftains control the smaller, weaker ones."

"Not since we arrived have we seen organization on this level. But that was when the Ti'hi had enslaved the people of Sardis," Marking explained. Looking up at his friend he said, "Do you think this place is some remnant of that time? That they've built all this just to have a sense of community again? And if so, why would they venture out at all?"

"Food perhaps?" Riker suggested. "The most basic of needs sentient beings require for survival."

Marking cocked his head, his eyebrows raising a little as if to indicate that Riker's suggestion made sense.

"What if this is some place they used to inhabit," Worf surmised. "And they've returned to it for some reason."

"Like a gathering?" Prazak jutted out his chin, scratching the stubble there with his fingernails.

"Perhaps a call? Perhaps the tribal Chieftains are gathering together." Troi shrugged.

Prazak frowned and dropped his hands, gripping the hilts of his swords and tightening his grip around them. "I've never seen Chieftains band together. Not like this. But if the one that ambushed us outside is their leader, I can see how it's possible."

Marking nodded silently.

"Because of his size?" Riker asked when neither augment spoke further.

"His size and his ferocity," Prazak stated. "He'd dominant the other Chieftains. And if they refused to join him, he'd simply slit their throats and take over their tribes."

Riker saw Troi wince ever so slightly at Prazak's nonchalant description of his enemy's actions.

"There's only one reason he'd do such a thing," Marking grumbled to his friend.

"If the map you found is any indication, I'd say that is a strong possibility." Prazak nodded. "Show me where you found it."

Marking jerked his head. "This way."

As they started walking again, Riker saddled up next to Prazak. "What does all this mean? And why the diversion with the prison cells up top?"

"That's what I'm hoping to find out." Prazak frowned.

* * *

A message from Starfleet Command was already waiting. Once the shuttlecraft was docked, Picard had made his way straight to his Ready Room.

He went to the replicator. "Tea. Earl Grey. Hot."

When his beverage materialized he took it back to the desk. Opening the message labeled "For Captain's Eyes Only" Picard read through the message. Admiral Yamoto wanted an update and expressed his displeasure that Picard had been unavailable at the time of the original call. His final order was for Jean-Luc to report the moment he received this message.

Sighing heavily, he took a sip of the beverage and send out a call to Starfleet Command.

The call was answered almost immediately. "Captain, I was wondering how long I'd have to wait for you to respond."

Picard kept his face neutral. He knew better than to interpret Admiral Yamoto's smiling face as pleasant. "I just arrived back from the surface, Admiral."

"I hope your next statement will be 'with the detainees in custody', Jean-Luc," the Admiral replied.

Picard took a sip of his tea then set the cup down. "Unfortunately that is not the case, Sir."

The fake smile disappeared altogether. "Explain, Captain. Explain why you have not followed through with your orders."

"We discovered the source of the beacon. General Prazak,-"

"General?" Yamoto's eyebrows arched. "You refer to him by this title now?"

Picard forced himself not to roll his eyes or sigh outwardly. "Andrej Prazak was instrumental in not only helping us locate the beacon, but also rescue a man that was allegedly a member of the shuttlecraft crew that the beacon came from. A number of Prazak's soldiers died during the rescue, Admiral."

"That is not my concern," Yamoto stated pointedly. "What is my concern is that you have three fugitives on that planet, yet you have not seen fit to arrest them. I'd like to know why."

"Sir, it's…complicated," Picard stated. "If you could see for yourself what these men have done here, you'd see that the idea of arresting them for crimes they _allegedly_ committed centuries ago, before the Federation even existed, is somewhat preposterous."

"You consider the decisions of Starfleet Command to be preposterous, Jean-Luc?" Yamoto wanted to know. "I've never know you to question your orders in such a way. We can excuse the violation of the Prime Directive _if_ you bring these men to justice."

Picard knew a thinly veiled threat when he heard one. But he remained unscathed. "Sir, all I need is a little more time. I'm not entirely convinced that Gen…that Andrej Prazak has given me the entire truth. I also need to devise a way to take him into custody. These men are soldiers. Highly trained and highly skilled. Our weapons do not work on the surface. They carry blades and swords. Even if they weren't genetically engineered, it would be difficult to subdue them without risk of injury to my personnel. But if you give me some more time, I may be able to convince him to surrender willingly."

Yamoto frowned. His eyes drifted off screen for a second. Picard didn't miss it. Yamoto wasn't the only one in the room. And whoever else was with him didn't want Picard to know of his presence.

 _What the hell is going on here?_

If there was one thing that irked Captain Picard more than anything, it was deceit. He hated being lied to. Hated his crew being put into a situation without all the facts. "Admiral, is there something else going on that I should know about? Is this really about the Eugenics Wars or is it something deeper than that? Something that Prazak has that Command wants? I'd appreciate full disclosure."

Yamoto's frown turned into a scowl. "You have 96 hours, Captain Picard. In that time if you don't have Prazak in restraints I'll send a starship Captain that will follow orders. Command Out."

The screen returned to the standard display of the Federation Symbol before Picard could even blink.

Rubbing his chin, Picard stared at the screen. "Interesting." He knew the Admiral and his unknown companion would never admit it, but it was becoming clear to Picard what this was more than likely all about.

 _They want the extract. Somehow, someway, they found out about it and now they want it for themselves. But why they need Prazak and his men alive in order to get it was something Jean-Luc hadn't yet figured out._

He sat there for some time until the door chime pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter."

The bridge door swished open and Lt. Commander Data entered. "Sir, welcome back."

"Thank you, Mister Data." Picard looked at his third officer. "Any progress on the information we transmitted?"

"Still compiling, Sir," Data reported. "However, with the addition of a first name, I believe we can make significant progress on identifying Lt. Dickerson and his mission."

"Good work, Mister Data," Picard replied.

Data tilted his head in that all too familiar way the android would behave. "Sir? May I ask a question?"

"Of course." Picard gestured at the seats in front of his desk.

Data remained standing. "Sir, why have we changed our line of investigation?"

"What do you mean?" Picard asked.

"We were determined to learn all we could about Andrej Prazak and his fellow augments. Now, suddenly, we are focusing on Dickerson. Do you suspect the man is not who he says he is?"

Picard sighed. Standing he pulled on his tunic. "I don't want to doubt the word of a Starfleet Officer, Mister Data, but at the moment I'm not entirely convinced he is a Starfleet Officer. And I think we've learned enough about Prazak and his men. At least for now. I'm more concerned with how Dickerson arrived on the planet below and what his real mission is because I do not believe it was a diplomatic transport."

Data nodded. "Understood, Captain."

"Report back to me in one hour, Mister Data. I'll be in Ten Forward."

"Aye, Sir." Data spun on his heel and departed just as expeditiously as he had arrived.

Picard watched him go. When the door closed, he picked up his tea for a sip. It had gone cold.

"Another reason to visit Guinan," he said aloud.

Yet Picard had one more task to complete before heading off for that drink. Taking a seat again, he opened up a secure connection with his personal command codes. Inputting the appropriate relay information, he leaned back and waited for his call to be connected.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Jean-Luc, this is a pleasant surprise." The face that appeared on the screen greeted.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Lana." Picard smiled back.

Lana Devoy was an old friend from his days at the Academy. While Jean-Luc had gone the command route, Devoy had excelled in the intelligence field. She spent most of her years in Starfleet Intelligence working on the Romulan threat, but she'd made connections far and wide throughout a plethora of intelligence organizations, not just Starfleet.

Devoy's face was what one would consider symmetrically perfect, accentuating her natural beauty. Even with the few grey hairs that sprouted from her thick, auburn curls, she was still a stunning woman. Picard knew that while Lana had never married, it was her choice. She'd had interested suitors lined up to win her favor at just about any event she'd ever attended, but like Picard, Devoy was dedicated to her profession first and foremost. But even Picard had found himself interested at one point, but just like the others, Lana had chosen career over love.

"Interrupting? Not at all, Jean-Luc. It's always nice to see a familiar face. But I imagine you didn't call me just for small talk. If you had, you wouldn't have bothered with a secure channel. What can I do for you?"

Another of Lana's quirks. Always straight to the point. "Lana, I was wondering if you could look into something for me. Discreetly of course."

"Am I not always discreet?" Lana winked.

Picard chuckled at that. "Of course."

Devoy smiled, waiting. Picard took it as a cue to get on with the reason for his call. "Lana, I'd be interested to know what, if anything, you can tell me about a man named Lieutenant Matthew Dickerson."

"Is he one of ours?"

Picard knew she meant Starfleet Intelligence. "I'm not sure. He claims to be a shuttlecraft pilot from the _USS Roosevelt_. Not sure the exact timeframe, but he could have served decades ago. Yet, we haven't found anything significant to verify his story."

Lana stroked her cheek, her eyes narrowing at the information Picard supplied. "I can look into it for you. What else?"

Picard's fingers glided over the controls. "I'm sending you the data we have now, including his bio-scan. Anything you can find on him would be greatly appreciated, Lana. I'd owe you."

She blushed. "You owe me nothing, Jean-Luc. As soon as I find something, I'll contact you securely. I assume you want this to stay between us for now?"

"Yes." Picard nodded. "Thank you, Lana."

"Anything for you, Jean-Luc," Lana assured. "I'll contact you soon."

"I look forward to hearing back from you." Picard nodded and ended the connection.

If Dickerson was lying, Devoy would find out, he had no doubt. But if the man was lying, Picard needed to know why. And more importantly, who was pulling Dickerson's strings.

* * *

Careful of where he stepped, Prazak circled the stone table. The gathering place reminded him of the old amphitheaters of Earth, but inverted. Instead of raised seating, this one had seating dug into the ground, so the audience was forced to look up at the table and the throne beyond.

The throne. It was crudely made, nothing like the one his Empress occupied. This one was worn and scuffed, made of thick, jagged wood. Unpolished. Tribal banners spotted both the seating area and space behind the throne. The table seemed more important to whatever ceremonies took place here.

Where the throne was primitive in its construction, the stone table was clearly cared for. It was smooth and even. Prazak's keen eye sight told him at once that it was perfectly level. A trench had been carved all the way around the edge, with a hole directly center in the long side that faced the throne. The discoloration in the trench versus the rest of the table made it clear that this table was used, at least in part, for live sacrifices.

But sacrifices to who? And for what purpose? Those were just a few of the questions that lingered in his mind.

Running a hand along the table, Prazak looked at his companions. To Marking he said, "This is where you found the map? And the two beacons?"

Marking nodded. "They were spread out on the table. As if the map had recently been being studied. The beacons were just there."

"Interesting," Prazak mused. Looking about, he saw the Starfleet Officers conducting their own scans. Prazak saw no harm in it. They were attempting to identify the bastardized remains of their lost shuttlecraft.

"Where are the prisoners?" Prazak asked.

"In there." Marking gestured off to his left. He pointed at a row of shacks that had been well tended. "We divided them up. Over a hundred in all. None fought us though I think some were able to flee."

Prazak nodded. Quickly, he made his way towards the buildings. From the corner of his eye, he saw the three officers coming to join him. When he reached the first building, he nodded to the guards manning the doors. One turned and removed the lock that had been placed on the handle.

Stepping inside, Prazak's hid his discomfort. He'd grown accustomed to many things, but the smell of the Ti'hi had never been one of them. If anything, he tolerated it. But when so many were together, the stench was overwhelming.

His presence had an immediate effect on the captives. Most shrunk away, backing into each other. A few of the braver ones snarled and hissed, but that was the extent of their defiance towards their captors.

The Ti'hi had been given food and water. They were also left unbound. Marking had stated they were non-combatants and from the looks of the rag tag group of about twenty to thirty of the creatures, Prazak agreed. Most were either too old or too young to be warriors. There were both males and females in the group. Ti'hi women did not shy away from fighting, but when they were pregnant or nursing their young, they reverted to their caregiver roles instead of combat.

Scanning the group, he searched for the one he assumed was there. When his look fell on individuals, most looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with him.

"Why are they so frightened of you?"

Prazak turned his head. Troi had come up next to him to ask the question. "They are not frightened of me so much as what I represent."

"Herschel called you their boogeyman," Riker said.

Marking hid his grin. Prazak snorted. "Herschel is a descendant of fairy tale writers. He may not look it, but he's got an imaginative streak in his blood. He should have been a scholar."

Prazak went back to searching. Methodically, he took a step closer to the captives. When they shuddered he raised his hands. "Show yourself."

The Ti'hi exchanged looks. Prazak studied their reactions. That was when he saw the one he was looking for. The one none of the other Ti'hi looked towards. Tucked near the back, wearing a dark cloak with a hood covering its face, Prazak saw the Ti'hi was holding a baby.

"Show yourself," he repeated. "I am not here to harm you. I only want to ask you a few questions."

The Ti'hi hissed then handed the child off to another. Prazak watched the creature stand. Watched its gnarled fingers curl around the edges of the hood and push it back.

The Ti'hi was old. Older than any other in the room. And female. The others moved, parting the way for the other to advance. When she took a step towards Prazak, he heard his guards react. Prazak waved them off, indicated for them to keep their weapons sheathed.

"I said I won't harm you. I won't harm any of your people," Prazak stated. "When you answer my questions you shall be free to go."

"Free to go where, Specter?" The Ti'hi responded. "This is our home."

Closer to him now, Prazak could distinguish the woman's features. Her dark purple skin was stretched. Strange markings like tattoos adorn most of exposed skin he could see. Her hair was pulled back into two thick braids, interwoven and decorated with small bones. More bones hung from a twine around her neck. Her lower mandible jutted forward and one of the fangs bore a metal ring around the base. The tip of her fang was broken. Her eyes were the most transfixing feature. Her eyes were what she used to draw her power, or so Prazak had heard of such Ti'hi. Deep set and dark, the old woman's orbs were terrifying.

"Stay here or go where you please within your lands, Shaman," Prazak answered. "I have no quarrel with those of you that do not attack my people."

The Shaman hissed and cocked her head. "Your people, Specter? They are not your people."

Prazak's jaw was tight. "They are my people. The people of Sardis. They accepted me. I am loyal to them. Just as you are loyal to your people, Shaman. Tell me what I want to know."

"You will not like what you hear, General Prazak." The old woman sneered.

"I must hear it regardless," Prazak answered without giving the Shaman the response she was looking for.

Prazak had some knowledge of the respect that Ti'hi priests and priestess' held, but until this moment, he'd never actually taken the time to talk to one. In fact, he'd never seen one so close. They were as mysterious and cloaked in secrecy within Sardis as he was within the Ti'hi's culture. The meeting felt a little strange.

Prazak turned and pointed towards the door. "The table."

"Yes, the table," the Shaman mumbled. She stepped by and once again Prazak waved off his guards. Even the Starfleet personnel moved aside to let the old woman pass.

Exchanging a look with Marking, Prazak fell in step with the Shaman was she exited the building and headed towards the stone table. When she arrived, she spread her hands out across the stone, leaned her head forward, chanted a few words and phrases then turned to face Prazak.

"Ask your questions, Specter that Walks," she ordered.

"How many of my people have died upon that table? What torture did you make them suffer? And for what purpose?"

"You know our ways," the Shaman responded.

"I know some of you consume your victims," Prazak scoffed.

"How is it any different than the goats you slaughter to feed your people? To make your nobles fat and happy?"

Prazak forced himself not to roll his eyes. He knew the Shaman wouldn't give him an answer he wanted, so he decided to change the topic, for now.

"Who is your leader? Where did he go and what are his plans?" Prazak asked.

"We are led by the one that will return us to the days before you arrived. But that day shall only come to us when a life is forfeited."

Prazak had a feeling he knew what she meant. He still asked, "What life must be forfeited?"

A crooked finger pointed straight at him. "Yours, Specter. Your reign is coming to an end."

"I have no reign, Shaman," Prazak growled. "I only serve. Just like you."

The Shaman shook her head. "You can lie, but in your heart you know the truth. Only you stand in our way. Only your death can bring give us back what you stole from us."

"Then why did your leader run? Why did he run like a coward?" Prazak asked heatedly.

The Shaman laughed. She stepped forward. Prazak's hands instinctively went for his swords, but he did not draw. He'd given his word he wouldn't harm them. But he did tense when she came to stand only inches from him. He refused to look away. He couldn't look away. He had no idea where it came from, but at the moment, he could feel the priestess' power. And when she reached up and touched his face, he heard the others behind him. Marking held them at bay.

"Do you fear death, Specter?" The Shaman asked.

Her hand was like ice. Like the cold of the dead. But her eyes were filled with fire. Fire, passion, and hate.

"I fear nothing, Shaman," he managed to respond hoarsely.

Her fingers tightened, needling his flesh. She shook her head. "Again, you lie, Specter. You do fear. You fear loneliness. You fear eternal damnation. Because you could not save them. You torture yourself because you were not there to protect them. To save them from such a horrific fate."

"Stop this," Prazak mumbled.

She did not comply. "Die and you shall feel no fear. You will be tortured no more. You can finally rest, Andrej Prazak. No longer lost, you can go home."

A vision formed before his eyes. A vision of home. Of his family. His wife and children. Mother. Grandmother. His family. His loved ones.

Prazak snapped his head back. Breaking the connection and the enchantment. The Ti'hi lowered her hand and stepped back.

"Enough of your sorcery, Shaman," Prazak barked, but he couldn't entirely shake the dread that chilled his blood. "Tell me where your Chieftain is. Tell me of his plans. He plans to attack Sardis Proper, doesn't he?"

The Shaman shook her head. "The Chieftain you faced is only one. He is the strongest. He shall be the one that kills you, General, if you do not kill him first. But he is not the one you need to kill if you wish to save your people."

"Enough with the riddles. Speak plainly, woman!"

"You see, yet you are blind. Look within, Specter. Look within to see the real threat."

Prazak's face scrunched in confusion. "You speak of the nobility?"

The Shaman shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. You should leave this place, Specter. Leave now. Take your soldiers and go. The longer you stay here, the longer he has to plan your demise. You can learn no more from this place."

Nostrils flaring, Prazak stared down the Shaman. She stared straight back. In a flash, he drew his longsword. Pointing it at the woman, he declared, "I am your ghost, Shaman. I am your nightmare. And mark my words, I shall not die. Because my existence has a purpose. And that purpose is to stop your kind from murdering and raping and enslaving. I shall not rest until every last one of you is gone. Dead. Banished. It makes no difference to me. Think of the babe you held. What future does it have if you continue to fight us? Tell your Chieftain I am waiting for him. Or do not and die alongside him. The choice is yours, Shaman."

"You cannot bring them back, General. No matter how many of us you kill or how many of them you save. You failed the ones you loved. The ones that needed you to protect them. The only ones that ever loved you."

With a snarl, Prazak flipped the sword in his palm. With a shout, he charged the Shaman. She stood rooted in place. Not moving an inch. Eyes wide open. The sword sliced through the air, singing as it did. He aimed for where her neck met her shoulder. With a cry Prazak brought the sword down.

Then he stopped.

Sharpened steel rested on the old Shaman's neck, but she didn't move. She didn't cringe. Prazak's chest heaved as he studied her. Either she knew he wasn't going to kill her or she truly did not fear dying.

Stepping back, he lowered the sword, keeping the point towards the ground. The Shaman's eyes had never closed. She'd stared at him the entire charge.

With another snarl, Prazak spun on his heel. He brushed by the stunned group of onlookers and paused only long enough to order Marking, "Gather up our forces. Then free the prisoners. We are done here."

The Shaman began to laugh. The laugh turned to a cackle. Prazak refused to look back. Refused to be drawn back in. He felt the presence of the others behind him. But he didn't stop. He didn't stop until he reached the ledge at the top of the stone steps.

There he sheathed his sword before kneeling down to take Zoja's face into his hands. The cat's eyes reflected his pain. Her worry. "It's okay, dear Zoja. All this will be over soon."

Zoja mewed. Stroking her face, he leaned forward and kissed the top of the cat's head before he stood back up. The three Starfleet Officers were looking at him, disbelief and shock on their faces. "I never intended to kill her. I only wanted to see how she reacted."

"And?" Troi asked softly.

"She spoke the truth. Dark days are ahead."

"What about you?" Troi asked next.

Eyes narrowed, Prazak gave the woman a look. He didn't hold it long before focusing on Commander Riker. "I suggest you leave while you still can."

"You think this Chieftain is planning an attack on your city?" Riker asked.

Prazak turned to meet Riker's gaze. "No, Commander. Not just an attack. I think they are planning another war."

* * *

Parting his eyelids, his surroundings came into focus. The doctor was still with him, but her back was turned. Eventually she would leave again. She needed to sleep. But that still left the guards outside the door. They were the real threat.

Overpowering Doctor Crusher would be easy enough, but Dickerson couldn't bet that the guards would allow him to pass, even if he held Crusher hostage in order to do so. Their loyalty to the Starfleet doctor went as far as their orders. And if they'd been ordered to keep Dickerson contained no matter the circumstance, he couldn't put it past them that they'd take the chance of harming Crusher to prevent him from leaving.

So he'd wait. But he couldn't wait long. Perhaps he could devise a diversion. Something to draw the guards away. But how? He had to think. He'd been thinking for years, but now was the time to act. Because sooner or later, Prazak would return. And when he did, Dickerson knew his chances of escape would diminish. If not disappear altogether.

 _Think, man. Think. You have to get out of here._

"You're awake."

Dickerson groaned. He hadn't noticed Crusher returning to his side.

"My head still hurts," he faked a pained moan.

"Let me get you something that should help," Crusher stated kindly.

Her kindness annoyed Dickerson. "I don't want to sleep anymore."

Crusher smiled. He hated it. "This will help with the pain, but not make you sleepy," she said.

"When can I leave?" He asked.

"When the Captain returns, we'll know more." Crusher was setting a hypospray.

"He left?" Dickerson hadn't know that.

"He'll be back soon. Just relax." She held the hypo over his arm.

Dickerson waved it off. Reaching across his body, he clamped down on her wrist with his hand. "I don't need that anymore."

"You said,-" she started.

"I'll be fine. Please. Just tell me where Captain Picard has gone."

Crusher's eyebrows shot up a little. "Why?"

"I need to warn him. Before it's too late."

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: I want to give a shout out to my good friend from TRAJQ who helped me with some details in this chapter. While she doesn't read ST: TNG (as much as I tell her about all the great stories here!) I do want to give her credit for her help with some parts of this fic overall. Thanks, GE!**

 **And Thank You to all that have read and left reviews, follows and favs. Please continue to enjoy.**

* * *

The return trip once again had been quiet. Sullen. Riker, Worf, and Troi had ridden back together. Prazak had gone with Marking and some of his soldiers. And when they'd reached the city, Prazak hadn't spoken to them, leaving to undoubtedly report back to his Empress what had transpired in the cave.

For the time, Riker and the others had returned to their provided quarters. A place that was becoming all too familiar to them. They hadn't even needed an escort to find their way back through the winding corridors of Sardis' underground military complex.

Riker had contacted Doctor Crusher upon their return and she'd met them half way. She had needed an escort. But Riker nodded his thanks to the soldier, who nodded back, did an about face and left.

Now the group was seated around the table in the common room. Riker put in a call to Captain Picard. The weather was clear, but there was word of another storm rapidly approaching.

"Report, Number One," Picard stated through the comm unit.

"Everyone is back." Riker looked around the table. His own tiredness was matched in the faces of his friends. "No incidents of aggression or combat. But we did witness Prazak confront one of the creatures that he referred to as a shaman."

"And?" Even through the combadge, Riker picked up on Captain Picard's curiosity.

"It was intense to say the least, Sir," Riker replied. He saw Troi and Worf nod in agreement. Continuing on, Will relayed what they'd witnessed of the encounter, to include his own interpretation of Prazak's response. "He was definitely rattled. I don't think he was expecting any of that happen when he pulled the old woman from the group of prisoners."

"No, it doesn't sound like it," Picard hummed.

"His reaction was very real, Captain," Troi added. "I could feel the tension that was bleeding off of him. He couldn't mask it even if he'd wanted to. It wasn't staged."

"He is a warrior," Worf growled. "A soldier. Soothsayers and mystics," he shook his head and snorted, "do nothing but cause trouble. I'm surprised he didn't kill her where she stood for the dishonorable things she said."

"He didn't kill her because she wasn't armed, Worf." Troi supplied.

"Or he was using her," Riker suggested. "He did tell the woman to get in contact with the Chieftain that vanished from the ambush. What I'm surprised by is that he didn't leave any soldiers to watch the cave. See if the Chieftain returned or if the shaman left so they could follow."

"We can speculate about his actions or lack thereof," Picard interjected. "But Prazak is a military strategist. Based on this report, I imagine he did exactly what he wanted to do. Doctor Crusher."

"Yes, Captain?" Crusher spoke up for the first time.

"What is the latest on Lieutenant Dickerson?"

"No change in his condition." Beverly sighed. "I'm still having trouble confirming his age. He acts as if he doesn't remember. He continues to rant nonsensically at times. He seemed disturbed, almost scared, when he heard that you'd left. He claimed he needed to warn you about something."

"Did he elaborate?" Picard wanted to know.

Beverly was shaking her head. "No. He quieted down after that."

"Did he mention Prazak again or the need to kill him?" Riker asked. The Captain had briefed the team on the conversation prior to his departure back to the ship.

"No." Crusher shook his head again. "But it sure sounds like a lot of people want Prazak dead for some reason."

"He is a threat to the Ti'hi," Worf said. Riker could hear the admiration for the General clearly in Worf's words. "Of course they want him dead. He is a roadblock to their reclamation of their slave labor."

"And Dickerson wants him dead as well," Riker remarked. "Could they be...working together?"

Troi tilted her head. "His fear was real, Will. His fear of the Chieftain during the ambush. It was stronger than his fear of Prazak when the General entered his cell."

"He could have been faking it," Worf commented.

"In the heat of battle it's difficult to mask real emotions," Troi countered.

"But not impossible," Picard threw in.

"No, Sir. Not impossible." Troi agreed.

Static jumbled over the combadge. Riker looked towards the ceiling. He smirked when he realized what he'd done. "It appears the storm is moving in faster than anticipated, Sir."

"Which means I won't be returning till tomorrow morning," Picard commented. "Quickly, before we lose the connection, what else did you discover?"

"We were able to conduct scans of some of the material the Ti'hi had used in the construction of their living spaces. No visible markings remained on what we found, but initial scans indicate the material is of Federation origin." Riker's fingers glided over one of the tricorders. "I'm transmitting what we have to Lt. Commander Data."

"I also recovered a number of electronic devices that had been discarded or used for what I assume was decoration." Worf cocked his head. "If I can reassemble the components I might be able to activate the internal logs and recover Dickerson's flight path."

Riker pointed at Worf. "If he logged one that is."

"Not many pilots can navigate without basic flight plans, Commander," Worf rebutted. "Even if all they use are coordinates, I could still possibly determine his point of origin. There might even be official or personal logs that are recoverable. The extent of the damage is significant, so it may take some time."

"Make it so, Mister Worf," Picard stated, the transmission began to crack. "If I need to...Mister La Forge or Mister Data with me when I return...know."

"Aye, Sir," Worf acknowledged.

"Commander Riker, I'll contact you when...depart. In the meantime, see what you can learn from those devices."

"Yes, Sir," Riker announced.

"And keep an eye...Dickerson. I'm not convinced... with someone that is...us the truth. I want to...he is simply mad due to his captivity, but I'm not satisfied that...case."

"Guards are still posted in the infirmary, Captain," Crusher assured.

The static became thicker. "Alright…safe…there. I'll be..tou…soon. Picard Out."

The connection died. Riker looked around the table. "Doctor, do you need to return to the infirmary?"

Crusher nodded. "I'd like to check back in on not only Dickerson, but some of the other patients. One man in particular was having a lot of complications from his wounds. We stabilized him and he's getting better, but I'm still concerned. After that, I could use some rest for the night."

"Do what you need to do then get some rest, Doctor." Riker smiled. "In fact, I think we should all get a little rest."

"I shall keep working on these, Commander," Worf gestured at the devices he's mentioned earlier.

Riker gave the Klingon a nod of approval.

"Deanna?" Riker looked to her. He really didn't want to hear her say she wanted to see Prazak.

And to his relief, she nodded. "I am a bit tired, but I'd like to head to the infirmary with Doctor Crusher. Offer some assistance or even comfort if needed."

"Alright." Riker agreed. "Worf and I will work on these. If anything happens contact me immediately."

* * *

"I can't believe you let a shaman get into your head."

Prazak scowled at Tarina's advisor. In addition to the old man, seated at the table with Prazak was Empress Tarina, Captain Tristin, General Herschel and Colonel Marking. Prazak had insisted in keeping the audience small and not allowing any of the nobility to attend. That suggestion had been met with suspicion from the ranking noblemen. To keep the discussion transparent, Tarina had overruled Prazak and allowed two representatives of the nobility to attend. Much to Prazak's dismay, the two had been Lady Sa and Count Formic.

Formic seemed focused on the discussion. Sa, however, kept throwing discreetly snide glances in Prazak's direction. When they'd entered the room earlier, Prazak had erected his mental walls to keep them, more Sa than Formic, from entering his head. He didn't need the additional drama.

"You weren't there, advisor, you wouldn't understand," Prazak scoffed.

Tarina raised a hand, silencing the two men before things boiled over. "What is your assessment, General? Do you believe the shaman spoke truthfully?"

"I do, Your Highness," Prazak stated.

Marking supported his friend. "I do as well, Empress. Based on what we saw, both during the ambush and in the cave, I agree with General Prazak. They are planning a war."

"With Sardis Proper being the first battlefield," Formic remarked.

Prazak nodded. "I believe so. If they have the forces necessary to take this city, they'd have no reason to fight anywhere else."

"Can they take this city?" Tarina asked pointedly.

Prazak shook his head. "No. And this wouldn't be the first time they'd tried, Your Highness. They cannot get by the wall. Attacking from the mountains would spread their forces thin and fatigue them. And of course they won't attack from the sea."

"So a frontal assault is their only option?" Formic shrugged. "So what's to worry about?"

Prazak's eyes narrowed. "The insider threat."

"You believe that too?" Sa retorted, her eyebrows raising as she pinned Prazak with a pointed stare.

"How else do you explain the map?" Marking gestured at the cloth spread out on the table. "The details could only have come from someone feeding information to the Ti'hi."

"Or they have scouts as skilled as your own, Colonel," the advisor suggested with a smirk.

Marking sneered, but Prazak cut him off. "Your Highness, I do believe the shaman spoke the truth in regards to this threat."

"Do you have any suspects, General?" Tarina questioned.

Prazak shook his head. "No."

"You implied the nobility,-" the advisor let the statement stand. Prazak knew the man was of noble blood, but his family had always served as advisors, even before the nobility was established. He retained that role when it became available.

"I didn't 'imply' anything," Prazak corrected. "I only suggested it was one possibility."

"And a ludicrous suggestion at that!" Formic pounded a fist on the table. "How dare you, General!"

Prazak sucked in a breath and ignored the jab.

"The nobility are of Sardis and have no reason to align with the Ti'hi," Sa supplied. "The Ti'hi, if they took this city, would never distinguish between nobles and commoners. We'd all be the same fodder to them."

"Then we must see that they do not take this city," Tarina stated officially.

"Agreed, Your Highness." Her advisor bowed slightly.

"Maybe the shaman was lying," Tristin said. "Lead us think there was an insider threat. Make us suspicious of one another. Divide us."

"So they can conquer us," Herschel grumbled.

"But the map?" Marking repeated.

"Maybe it was scouts. Maybe they studied our own tactics and are now using them against us." Tristin waved a hand at the cloth.

Prazak assimilated the information. It was possible.

"Have you learned anything more from the rescued Starfleet man, General?" Tarina wanted to know.

"They're keeping him close. Our guards are posted and have not reported any significant information in regards to what he has said." Herschel responded for Prazak. "When I left the infirmary, he was still sedated. Not as heavily as before, but enough. He doesn't appear to be ill. I think Captain Picard is trying to figure out what to do with him."

Tarina, straightening her back, clutching the arm rests of her chair. "Whatever decision Captain Picard makes, he shall not remove that man from this planet without my approval." She turned her gaze back to Prazak. "Can you read him?"

Closing his eyelids for just a moment, Prazak inhaled sharply. Opening his eyes, he replied, "I have not tried, Your Highness."

"Then do so, General," Tarina ordered. "Decipher what is in his head. I want the truth."

Turning his head to the side, Prazak bowed a little, signaling his affirmation.

"What else?" The Empress demanded.

"I recommend we double our forces here in the city," Prazak said. "I can increase patrols on the wall and in the mountains if I recall some of our village Garrison forces."

The Empress nodded.

Prazak inhaled. His eyes went to Formic and Sa. "And I recommend the nobility be prepared as well."

Formic snorted in disgust, his eyes rolling upward as he crossed his arms over his chest. Sa simply smirked coyly back at Prazak.

Formic huffed. "We have more important matters that require our attention."

"More important than the defense of this city?" Herschel shot back. "Than protecting our way of life?"

Formic snorted again, but didn't respond.

Prazak shrugged, clearly showing his indifference to the nobleman's protest. "Regardless, Count Formic, it is your duty. Your service as part of a reserve force in the event of an attack was part of the agreement made by The Kindly One when he granted the nobility governing power."

Formic refused to meet Prazak's gaze. Eyes averted, the nobleman replied, "I know the details of the agreement well enough. I also know that only the Empress can institute such a decree."

Tarina, who had quietly listened to the exchange, raised her voice. "And that is exactly what I am doing. As of this moment, the nobility is ordered to prepare for war."

Formic pressed his lips together. Slowly, he rose from his seat. Lady Sa did the same. Both bowed to their leader. "Yes, Your Highness."

Folding his hands together, Prazak looked at the two. "I'll send the details, along with orders for reporting to duty to your office, Count."

Tarina rose. The rest followed suit. "If there is nothing else…"

No one spoke.

"Very well. Prepare your forces, General. I expect a full report." Turning, the Empress departed. Her advisor and Tristin following in tow.

Prazak watched her go. When the door she went through closed, sending an echo reverberating off the walls of the inner chamber, Prazak looked to the nobles.

"This is preposterous, General," Formic spat.

"It is the Empress' decree." Prazak shrugged.

"I'd like to know why you need us," Sa remarked coolly. "You have plenty of forces available. If this is because..."

Prazak held up a hand. He wasn't going to allow her to start that conversation. "The only thing this has to do with is defending the city from an impending attack. Everyone has to do their part, Lady Sa. And that includes the nobility. Unless you want to become fodder and slaves for the Ti'hi. You do remember what they did to the women they held as slaves, yes?"

That silenced the two.

"Like I said, I'll send the details to your office, Count," Prazak stated again. "Expect that by morning, you all shall be reporting to your respective outfits. In the meantime, I suggest you take the time to sharpen your swords. Those little dirks you carry for defense will not do against Ti'hi."

Formic's lips curled downward for just a moment before he spun on his heel, heading for the door. Sa held Prazak's gaze for a handful of seconds then followed behind the Count. The door slammed behind them when they departed.

"This is getting ridiculous." He ran his hands through his hair, scratching his scalp. "What happened to the days when we just fought?"

"Fought Ti'hi, killed Ti'hi, then celebrated until the next battle," Marking chuckled. "Those were the days."

"The days before the nobility started to politicize everything." Herschel rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I think the Kindly One gave them too much power."

"He didn't," Prazak retorted. "They saw an opportunity and seized it upon his death. Before Tarina was old enough to stop them."

"They best be prepared to fight," Marking growled.

"They will be. They know their livelihood is at stake," Prazak said.

Herschel nodded. With a smirk he gestured from the door back to Prazak. "Perhaps if you'd stop taking the noblewomen to bed, they'd stop thinking they have power over you and the military."

Throwing his head back, Prazak laughed. "I think I've learned from those mistakes. And as you saw, whatever power they think they have was quickly squashed by the Empress."

"Just stay away from Lady Sa, brother. How many times do I have to tell you that?" Herschel replied with a crooked grin.

Marking snickered.

Prazak grinned, shaking his head at his friends. "To the infirmary then?"

Herschel gave a nod. "Let's go."

* * *

Commotion from the outer room drew Deanna's attention. Glancing briefly at Doctor Crusher, who continued her scans of Lieutenant Dickerson, Deanna careened her neck, looking over her shoulder.

She knew that Prazak had arrived even before she saw him. The commotion was nothing more than him greeting the medical staff and patients. But she had sensed his presence as well. He wasn't reaching out to her, but she felt him regardless.

 _Our connection is stronger than I thought._

Dickerson started to mumble frantically. Deanna glanced at the General and his fellow augments then back to Crusher. "Let me see what's going on."

Crusher nodded once, her expression flat. Even though they weren't in the _Enterprise_ 's sickbay, Deanna knew that Crusher was not one to tolerate interruptions that disturbed the patients. For Doctor Beverly Crusher, if she was treating a patient, she was treating a patient, regardless of where that care was being administered. And in those situations, Troi knew all too well that Crusher would put her foot down.

 _The doctor is in charge._

Without waiting for a reply from the _Enterprise'_ s CMO, Troi stepped into the infirmary's main room. She waited patiently as Prazak spoke to Doctor Belan. She also noted that Herschel and Marking were present, but were engaged in conversation with one of the few soldiers that remained hospitalized.

Prazak pushed up his sleeves. Deanna watched as Belan examined the General's arm, recalling the gruesome wound he'd sustained from the Ti'hi's hound. She assumed it was bothering him more than he'd let on previously, even though looking at his arm, it appeared mostly healed. Belan shook her head at something Prazak said. Grabbing a syringe, Belan grasped Prazak's wrist. Deanna could see the syringe was full. The doctor pressed the needle into the crook of Prazak's elbow and depressed the lever. Prazak went rigid, but he didn't pull away. Seconds later, with the contents injected, the doctor turned away, the procedure and the conversation ending.

Prazak's eyes rose and immediately found Deanna's. Rolling his one sleeve down to cover the wound, he walked up to her. "I need to see your Lieutenant."

 _Not even a hello how are you._

"Excuse me?" Troi arched an eyebrow.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Counselor, this isn't a request."

"Doctor Crusher is attending to him," Troi stated.

"I won't disturb her." With a step to the side, he glided by, stopping in the doorway.

Troi stared at the man's back. His muscular frame blocking out the majority of the view beyond. She let out an exacerbated exhale. Moving, she pushed by him, reentering the room and placing herself between the General and the man in the bed.

Dickerson's agitation had grown, but his mumbling had stopped. His eyes darted everywhere. Everywhere except to Prazak.

That's when Troi felt it.

Stepping forward, she forced herself into Prazak's view. "Stop," she demanded through gritted teeth.

Prazak blinked at her then looked over her shoulder. He continued to remain silent.

"I said stop, Andrej." Without realizing her own actions, her hand clamped onto his uninjured forearm. "What you're doing is wrong."

"What is going on?" Crusher questioned.

"You'll never have it," Prazak growled, his voice deep and disturbingly chilly.

For a moment Deanna thought he was speaking to her. But his eyes were still on Dickerson. From behind her, she heard the Lieutenant gulp.

"I said stop this, Andrej," Deanna pleaded. "His mental stability cannot handle your intrusion!"

But he didn't. She felt him press harder into Dickerson's mind. When Dickerson yelped, Deanna took drastic measures to break the connection. Her hand was still on Prazak's arm. As hard as she could, she dug her nails in. Prazak jerked, pulling his arm free from her grasp.

But it worked. She felt the connection between Prazak and Dickerson snap.

Prazak took a step back. His eyes roamed between Deanna and the patient.

"Andrej," Deanna whispered.

With a shake of his head, Prazak raised his hands. He scowled, his handsome features during dark. Clouded by anger. Deanna felt the anger was directed at her, but she couldn't be entirely certain. The moment she'd broken Prazak's connection to Dickerson, she felt Prazak erect a barrier in his head, blocking her from reaching into his mind.

Without another word to her, Prazak returned to his friends. Minutes later, they departed.

"What was that all about?"

Deanna sighed. Turning, she saw Crusher's worried look. "Deanna?"

"Nothing," Deanna lied. "It was nothing. I thought he was trying to do something, but I was wrong."

Crusher didn't appear to believe her. Before the Doctor could challenge Deanna's statement, Troi forced herself to smile. "I think the stress is just getting to me. Do you need me for anything else, Doctor?"

A soft, but knowing smile, appeared on Crusher's face. "No. I'm just going to finish up with the Lieutenant here then check on the other patients."

"I think I need some air. I'm suddenly feeling a bit claustrophobic." Deanna frowned.

"I'll ask one of the guards to escort me back to our quarters. Just be careful. I wouldn't recommend going outside. It's storming already."

Deanna smiled a little. With a nod of thanks to Doctor Crusher, she turned and headed for the infirmary doors.

* * *

The atmosphere in Ten Forward was pleasant. Picard had arrived during a lull and the few patrons that occupied the lounge were keeping to themselves. Finding an unoccupied table was easy enough and Picard had settled in. Facing outward, he gazed upon the white planet. Watching the atmospheric storm rage, battling within itself, he found himself thinking of his people that were still on the surface, hoping they were safe. But knowing and trusting his senior staff was easy, it was the image that the storm conjured in his mind that suddenly disturbed Picard. Just like the battle that seemed unavoidable down on the snow covered planet, the battle that Picard had to face was ever looming as well. The battle of his conscience.

"You look like a man that could use another drink."

Picard lifted his eyes as Guinan took a seat across from him. She set another cup down next to his already empty tea. "Thank you, Guinan."

"I had planned on bringing you something a bit stronger, but I figured you'd prefer to keep a clear head. At least until this ordeal is over." Guinan stated in her usual soft spoken manner.

A small smile appeared on Picard's lips. "You know me so well, Guinan."

"We've been together too long for me not to know you, Captain," Guinan stated kindly. "And that's how I know you're still conflicted."

Leaning forward, Picard picked up the fresh tea. Raising it to his lips, he drank. He stole one more glance towards the planet before returning to discussion. "I am conflicted," he confessed. "But part of being in command is making the difficult decisions. Especially ones that concern life and death."

"But in this case, you are being asked to determine the life or death of men that are not under your command," Guinan offered. Her tone held no accusation. She simply stated facts. It was one of her many attributes that Picard relied upon; Guinan's ability to offer unbiased advice.

"You know, Guinan," Picard set the cup down, "no one has explicitly said that returning Prazak to Earth equates a death sentence."

Guinan cocked her head sideways. "Yet you know that is exactly what will happen. Do you really believe Starfleet Command wants to put him on trial? You had to ask me about what happened during the Eugenics Wars. What makes you think Starfleet or the Federation has undeniable evidence against those men? It was over three hundred years ago, Captain."

Picard's head bobbed up and down. "So they want him for something else."

"And I think it's fairly obvious. And what's more important, I think you know that too."

Picard was starting to connect the dots. "They want whatever it is that's kept him alive and un-aging all this time. Something about keeping them alive is imperative to discovering the secrets of this extract they took."

Guinan leaned back in her chair, her hands folding into her lap. "You do realize what you're agreeing to be a part of, Captain?"

Picard frowned. He stared across the lounge. At the people that depended on him. That relied upon him. That trusted him. Then his gaze wandered back to the planet.

"I'm sure it's not all of Starfleet Command," Guinan spoke. "Maybe only a handful of people. A need to know type deal. No one will ever know what happens. What's three men from a past that nobody wants to remember? They won't be missed."

Shaking his head, he focused back on Guinan. Her devil's advocate tactic working exactly as she must have intended. "I can't. Those men, regardless of their genetic makeup, are still human beings. I cannot be a part of some conspiracy that turns them into lab rats. Genetic engineering and manipulation was banned because of the experiments that created these men. And even before that, men tortured and murdered others in the name of science."

Picard's frowned deepen. For all of Earth's accomplishments, it would never escape its brutal and sadistic upbringings. And for Picard that was okay. Because Earth needed to remember those times. Times when evil men sought power by destroying thousands, even millions of lives. When quests for perfection enabled the rise of tyrants like Khan Noonien Singh and Colonel Phillip Green.

Picard shook his head as the thoughts raced through his mind. But Earth prevailed. Not because the tyrants and dictators simply gave up. Earth prevailed because of men like Prazak and his comrades. Men and women that fought against the evil and the wicked. That swore their lives to protect others, even when the ones committing the deeds were considered brothers and sisters.

When Picard looked to Guinan, the woman was wearing her same knowing expression; as if the turmoil in his head was performing on stage for all to see. "Well, Captain?"

"I can't do it, Guinan. I can't detain those men. Not with the knowledge that they may be experimented upon or even killed simply because they happened to accidently discover the secret to everlasting life."

Guinan smiled. "What about your orders?"

Picard blew out a deep breath. "Yes, there is that."

"Well, the only way you cannot bring Prazak and his friends in alive, is if they are already dead," Guinan quipped.

Picard blinked. "I know you're not advocating..."

The grin on her face widened. "Of course not, Captain."

"Any suggestions?" Picard shrugged.

Tilting her head to the side, Guinan tapped a finger on her chin. "You know, I once knew a man that was an expert at this sort of thing. He and I made a good team in fact. Espionage. Subterfuge. Making 'dead' men appear just when it was most convenient."

Picard smirked. "Any idea where I can find this Gary Seven?"

Guinan chuckled. "Oh, I'm not talking about Seven."

Picard held his breath.

Guinan's grin turned to a smirk. "I'm talking about Andrej Prazak."

* * *

Prazak forced himself to smile. "I didn't think you were interested in seeing me anymore."

Holding the door open, he watched Deanna enter his quarters, stand in the middle of the room, then turn to face him. Her expression was blank. "I thought you said you didn't invade people's minds without their approval. Or knowledge. That's twice now that I've witnessed you do it."

Shutting the door, Prazak crossed his arms over his chest, leaned his back against the wood and stared back at the woman. "This was different. I had to know if your officer was lying."

Troi cocked an eyebrow. "And what did you learn?"

Uncrossing his arms, Prazak pushed away from the door. Walking away from her, he started unstrapping his armor as he spoke. "Nothing." Unclasping the buckles, he grabbed the plates, pulling them off over his head. He faced her and dropped the armor to the floor. "But you already know that."

He saw her fidget. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I couldn't stand by and let you do that to him. His mind is fragile enough."

With a snort, Prazak curled his lips into a sneer. "Deanna, you don't believe his story any more than I do." Then he smiled. "And you didn't hurt me."

Her arms wrapped around herself. He watched her shiver. She looked towards the floor.

Shaking his head, Prazak unbuckled his sword belt. "You know what bothers me, Deanna?" He paused in his actions, looking at her. When she looked back, he continued. "What bothers me is that you'd rather find reasons to believe him than me."

"That's not true, Andrej," Troi protested.

"Isn't it?"

When she didn't answer, he went back to his task. With the belt removed, he grasped the longswords sheath in his left hand. "You have the ability to determine the same things I do."

"I'm an empath, not a telepath. Remember?" Troi shot back. "The only reason I can speak with you is because you made the connection."

"But you can tell that he's lying," Prazak said. "You know he is. What will you tell your Captain when he returns?"

Troi bit her bottom lip. It took her a moment to respond, but her eyes were solid, unmoving when she did. "I'll tell him I believe Dickerson is lying. I just don't know why. I don't know what he wants."

Prazak chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? He wants the extract."

Her eyes shot wide. "How can you know that?"

"What other reason could there be?" Finally, he set the sword down. His eyes narrowed. "What I want to know is how he learned about it."

"Are we back to this, Andrej? You believing we have ulterior motives as well?" Deanna asked. "Can you not see that you are guilty of the same accusations you make against us? You think we have ulterior motives. We tell you we don't. Yet you continue to doubt. But you want us to believe every word you speak to be the unquestionable truth. So what is it, Andrej? What do you really believe?"

He held her stare. She didn't blink. She didn't look away. Eventually, he did. Sighing, Prazak ran his hands over his head, clasping his fingers together at the back of his neck. Jerking his head upward, he stretched. His muscles were tense; even sore. "Honestly, I don't know what to believe anymore. All I want is for this to end."

"How do you see it ending?" Deanna whispered. Her tone losing a little of its accusatory nature.

Dropping his hands, he looked back her. She'd moved closer to him, but was still out of arm's reach. "How do I see it ending?" He repeated. "In bloodshed. A lot of people are going to die very soon."

"You can stop that from happening," Deanna replied with another step. "You can negotiate for peace."

Prazak shook his head. "No. I can't. War is coming. It is inevitable."

"What do you plan to do about Dickerson? You think he's involved, that much I know."

"That man's fate is not for me to decide," Prazak answered.

"Captain Picard won't let you have him. If Dickerson is Starfleet and if he is guilty of any crimes, he will face a tribunal back on Earth. Just like they want to do to you. Captain Picard won't let you kill him."

Prazak smiled. "I have no intention of killing Dickerson. He is lying. I am sure of that. But he is only a nuance to me. I am more concerned with the Chieftain and his forces."

Troi blinked repeatedly.

Prazak's smile grew. "Not the response you were expecting, was it?"

"Honestly," Troi smiled, "no. It wasn't."

"I am not a politician. Any decision regarding Dickerson will be made between Empress Tarina and your Captain."

Troi sighed heavily. She took a seat on the couch across from the fireplace. Crossing one leg over the other, she ran her hands up and down her legs, finally clasping her fingers together around her knee. "I'm sorry, Andrej. I'm tired. Exhausted."

"We all are," he offered with a smile.

"I still think what you did was wrong, but I guess, in some way, I can understand why you did it. I cannot, with good conscience, say that I've never used my empathic abilities against another without that one's knowledge. Its just not something I try to make into a habit."

"Nor I, Deanna," Prazak said. "I do what I have to do based on what my Empress demands. I'm sorry if it offended you."

He saw a faint smile creep onto her lips. She was relaxing. She glanced around the room. "Where is Zoja?"

"Probably off hunting." Prazak shrugged. "When storms come she tends to wander off in search of deer. That or she is with Wilhelm or John. John feeds her these stinky treats he concocts from...ingredients he gathers on his scouting missions. She loves them, but they give her horrendous gas."

A laugh burst from her mouth. Prazak smiled when Deanna blushed and covered her lips with a hand. "Sorry. That was probably more information about my feline companion than you wanted to know. Unfortunately, for me, Marking tends to send her back my way after he's fed her those things. He thinks it's funny."

Deanna's eye were shining over her hand. When she appeared to have her laughter under control she lowered her hand. "It's just another one of those facts I find completely unreal about you and your two friends."

"You don't think augments can love and care for an animal?" Prazak winked.

"I shouldn't be surprised really," Deanna replied. "Data has a cat named Spot back onboard the _Enterprise_."

Prazak's brow furrowed from his confusion. "Besides the rather odd choice of name for a cat, why is that significant?"

"Because Data is an android."

A short whistled escaped his lips. "An android? Really?"

Deanna nodded. "He strives to become more human. To grow beyond his original programming. It's fascinating to observe. I consider Data one of my closet friends and confidants."

He gestured towards the balcony. "Care for a drink?"

"Such a charismatic way to change the subject." Troi visibly relaxed. "You have anything other than vodka?"

A short laugh escaped his lips. "Did you enjoy the drinks at the dinner?"

"There was something similar to champagne. Do you have any of that?"

"Of course I do," he replied. "Would you care for anything else as well?"

Troi blushed. "I can think of one or two things."

* * *

His lips were warm against her skin. His hand glided smoothly over the curve of her hip. Her body shivered in response to his rhythmic movements as they came to an end.

Still on her side, Deanna tilted her head back and up. She met his mouth half way.

When their lips parted, Prazak fell to his back. Rolling over, Deanna draped a corner of the plush fur blanket around herself and pressed into his side as Prazak leaned back against the headboard, his head bumping against the wood. His breathing was still heavy, but starting to slow.

Deanna smiled, enjoying the sight of how Andrej's muscles rippled in time with each breath he took.

He must have caught her staring. "What?"

Deanna eyes went to his. "Just enjoying the view."

Prazak grinned. "I really don't want you to leave."

Troi subtly wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. "I'll take that to mean you enjoyed it."

Leaning over, Prazak pressed a soft kiss on the crown of her head. "Every. Single. Time."

"I can agree with that," she mumbled.

Silence took over for a while. Hand sweeping lightly over his chest, Troi observed Prazak's demeanor. Occasionally he'd glance towards the balcony, staring through the glass panes that shut out the cold. The sky beyond was dark, but the moon cast a faint glow that reflected against the frosty panes. The wind howled from time to time, swirling the heavy snow as it fell in thick sheets.

A faint sigh escaped Prazak's throat then his eyes closed. Troi knew he was still awake from the gentle way his hand stroked her upper back, playfully tangling up her curls.

"Andrej," she whispered after some time.

"Yes?" His steely gaze returning to focus on her.

"If that Chieftain does attack your city, what do you plan to do?"

His hand stopped moving. Beneath her own hand, she felt his pectoral muscles constrict.

When he didn't respond, Troi pressed a little more. As a Counselor, she was trained and skilled in getting to the answers she sought. "You're going to sacrifice yourself, aren't you?"

Instead of answering, Prazak untangled himself from her hold. Scooting over, perched on the side of the bed, he didn't look at her. With a grunt, he ran his hands over his thighs, then stood.

He didn't have to say the words. He'd already confirmed her suspicions. Her gaze followed him as he retrieved his trousers and pulled them on.

"What good do you think that is going to accomplish?" She asked. "And what makes you think you have to die? You can kill that Chieftain, you know that."

He finally looked at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Deanna shook her head. Her eyes remained locked with his. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Andrej. This entire time you've been trying to convince us why you need to stay here. For these people. To protect them. To keep them safe. How do you plan to do that if you're dead?"

"If I can kill the Chieftain, his forces will retreat," Prazak replied. "The people of Sardis won't need me anymore after that. They will persevere."

"Where is this coming from, Andrej?" Deanna frowned. "What makes you want to suddenly become a martyr?"

Prazak shook his head. "It's not about martyrdom, Deanna."

"Then what?"

Frowning, he moved back to the bed. Sitting on the end, he brushed his hands through his hair, his head hung low. Deanna inched her way next to him.

Running her hand up and down his spine, she whispered, "Tell me."

Looking at her, Deanna saw something in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. Sadness.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this," he confessed.

"These people need you, Andrej," she comforted. "Don't give up on them now."

"What happens when it's over? Say I kill the Chieftain. Drive his forces back into obscurity. What then?" He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. Reaching over, he took her free hand in both of his. "How much longer do I have to exist?"

"You're thinking about the shaman's words. About finally being able to rest. Be with your family again," Deanna concluded.

Prazak shrugged a little. "Even if I believed in an afterlife, it wouldn't matter. I buried my family on Earth. How could I be with them?"

"I don't have those answers, Andrej. I'm sorry." She meant it too.

A sad smile formed on his lips. "I don't expect you to have the answers, Deanna. No one has them. I'm just," letting go of her hand, he stood and faced her, "tired, Deanna. Anyone that thinks eternal life, or whatever you want to call it, is some grand prize has no idea what its truly like. I've witnessed and experienced horrific things in my time."

"But I imagine amazing things as well," Deanna replied. "Look around you, Andrej. You helped build this place. A city. A society. You gave these people hope. You freed them from slavery. You've proven that you are not what my superiors believe you to be. You are not Khan."

His eyes pressed shut. Deanna remained quiet while Prazak stood there, absorbing her words. Face scrunched a little, he pressed his fingers to his closed eyelids. "I'm not sure you realize how much it means to hear you say that, Deanna."

Inhaling, Troi composed herself. "I wouldn't lie to you, Andrej. More importantly, I'll defend you. To Captain Picard. To Starfleet Command if necessary. But what good would any of that do if you go out there and throw your life away?"

His eyes opened again. "You won't have to do that. If I survive this fight, I'll surrender myself to your Captain."

"No." She stated. She saw him flinch at her firmness. "No, Andrej. It's not going to come to that. I'll speak with Captain Picard. He'll listen to me. We'll figure out a way to keep you here."

"What about his orders?" Prazak questioned.

Deanna smiled. "I've served on the _Enterprise_ a long time. If there's one thing I know about the Captain, it's that he can be cunning as well as diplomatic."

"I don't want any of you to suffer with your superiors on my account," he said in return.

"Promise me, if this battle happens, promise me, Andrej, that you won't needlessly throw your life away. That you won't step out onto that battlefield with the intention of dying. More people need you than you might realize." Looking away from him she mumbled softly, "And while we both know it won't last, for the time being, I need you too."

She felt his presence move towards her. When she looked up again, he was standing in front of her. Gently, he ran a finger long her jawline. His eyes gazed into hers. She no longer saw the sadness that had been there only moments before. Tilting her chin upward, he leaned down and kissed her softly.

"I promise," he breathed against her lips.

She knew he was telling the truth. A spark of life had returned to him. Deanna knew that all he'd needed was to hear those words; that he was needed.

"I don't want to watch you die, Andrej," she whispered.

Gracefully, he inched his way closer, forcing her back fully into the bed. Deanna let the blanket fall as Prazak hovered over her. He pecked her lips again. "I won't, Deanna. You're right, it was a foolish thing to even consider. I don't want to die. Because if I die, I won't be able to remember you."

Deanna inhaled sharply, his words taking her breath away. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead pushed upward and met his lips. The kiss was deep and passionate. Her mind relaxed and she gave herself to the moment and to the man.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

* * *

Deanna woke peacefully. Shifting beneath the wrappings of the plush fur blanket, she reached out across the bed, seeking out Prazak's warmth. Her hand found nothing but an empty space where he once was. She was alone.

Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, she propped herself up on an elbow and looked around the bedroom. She was definitely alone. Alone in Prazak's bed.

"Hello? Andrej?" she called, thinking he could be in another room.

No answer.

With a sigh, Deanna sat up, holding the blanket against her body. The sky beyond the balcony was black with a thin layer of grey hovering. The storm appeared to have ended, but dawn was approaching.

 _Great. Now I'll have hear it from Will._

She did not relish that thought. Pushing the blanket aside, she scooted the edge of the bed, reaching over in search of her clothes.

A startled gasp escaped her lips.

Zoja was stretched out on the floor. The cat looked up and purred.

"You startled me," Deanna said. Zoja's eye color was fluctuating, never settling on one color. Mesmerized by the sight, Deanna found herself wishing she'd learned more about the different colors and the moods associated with them. "Where's your master?"

The big cat sat up on her haunches then stretched. Deanna's eyes widened a bit at the side of the animal's massive claws. When Zoja yawned, her fangs jutted outward. A formidable predator for sure.

Finished with the stretch, Zoja circled a few times then headed out of the bedroom. A few second later the cat returned and mewed.

"Give me a minute to get dressed, gorgeous." Standing, she gathered up her clothes then went to Prazak's washroom. She had to appear presentable.

* * *

The shuttlecraft was prepped and ready to go.

"You are clear to depart, Captain," Data stated officially. He stood next to Picard in the bay. "Are you sure you do not require my assistance on the planet?"

Picard shook his head. "Mister Worf is making progress on the equipment he recovered. And I need you here. In command of the _Enterprise_. Keep trying to raise Commander Riker on the comlink. The rest of the team as well."

"Aye, Sir." As an android, Data did not react emotionally to being denied a chance to travel to the surface. He simply acknowledged his orders.

"But that doesn't mean I can't go."

Picard turned. The entrance doors had just swished closed behind Guinan. The El-Aurian wore her usual small smile. A bag was slung over her shoulder and she wore a heavy cold weather coat over her usual garb. Picard couldn't stop himself from smiling.

"Guinan, you do know that a war is allegedly about to break out down there?" Picard asked when she stopped in front of himself and Data.

"You say that as if I haven't seen my fair share of war," Guinan remarked. "And while you may have participated in one battle with our mutual friend, I've fought next to him during many battles. I know the dangers, Captain."

Picard didn't think he'd ever refer to Prazak as a 'friend', but he let the comment pass. "Then all I ask is that you stay close to my side. Since we both know the chaos associated with combat."

"I can take care of myself, Captain." Brushing her coat open, she revealed a small dagger tucked into the folds of her clothing. "And I have no reason to fear Andrej or his friends. This is in case the ones they fight want to try anything with me."

Data's head cocked to the side. Picard laughed a little. "I guess I can't argue with that."

"You can, but you won't." Guinan smiled.

Picard looked at Data. "That's all, Mister Data."

"Aye, Sir," Data replied. "Good luck."

The android departed.

Entering the shuttlecraft, Picard powered up the transport. Dropping her bag, Guinan sat in the co-pilot's chair. "A penny for your thoughts, Captain?"

Picard kept his eyes on his task. "I'm hoping this is the last trip we make down to Sardis. I want this to be over."

"Have you decided what you're going to tell Starfleet Command?"

Picard finished his procedure before leaning back in his chair. "My only concern is that they'll require some sort of proof that Prazak and his fellow augments are dead. And while they insist on him being alive when we detain him, I anticipate a death report might be followed up with orders to return with his body."

"Then he'll just have to die in a way that doesn't leave a body," Guinan offered casually.

Picard smirked. "I'm not sure I've ever seen such a devious side of you, Guinan."

Guinan shrugged.

"And you seem to be enjoying it," he added.

Again she shrugged, but this time she smiled too. "I admit, the anticipation of seeing these men again after all these years is a bit nerve wracking. But on the other hand, the idea of falling back in line with them, doing what we did during the eugenic wars is definitely a bit…exciting."

The shuttlebay doors were opening.

Picard initiated the flight sequences. "That period of Earth's history is one, I admit, that I never really studied extensively."

"When this is all over, perhaps a trip to the holodeck is in order," Guinan said. "Not everything about that time period was bad."

"I just might take you up on that. But first, let's finish our dealings here."

* * *

Stepping through the doorway, Riker shrugged against the cold. Even bundled up in his cold weather clothing, the wind sliced him to the core.

"I hate this place," he mumbled as he trudged through the ankle high snow.

But it wasn't just the winter weather that bothered him this morning. He was looking for Deanna. And Prazak. When he'd awoken, he'd knocked on Deanna's door, assuming she had returned from the infirmary sometime after he had went to sleep.

At least that's what he'd told himself. Convinced himself even.

But when Deanna hadn't answered, Riker's gut had twisted. And when he pushed the door open and found her room uninhabited, her bed unruffled, he knew she'd been with Prazak again.

Will knew he needed to let it go, yet he couldn't. And that's how he found himself wandering through the wintery courtyard of the somewhat sleepy city of Sardis.

Traversing the snow covered paths, Riker nodded a little whenever a group of soldiers passed by. The tired ones heading away from the wall while the more vibrant groups headed towards it. A few times they glanced at Riker as they went by, but they didn't say anything.

Alone again, Riker kept walking. As the sky started to change, from black to a dull grey, he saw two men lounging near the wall of a shop, more than likely waiting for it to open.

Kicking up a pile of snow, Riker approached the soldiers. One was flipping his sword casually around in his palm while the other, the older of the two, smirked at his young companion's attempts to show off his skills. The older soldier was chewing on a dark brown square. Riker wasn't sure what it was, probably a ration of some kind.

"Excuse me." Stomping his feet to clear the snow from his boots, Riker smiled at the men. "Do you know where General Prazak is right now?"

The two men exchanged amused looks. The younger one stopped what he was doing and sheathed his sword. The older gave Riker the once over. "You fought with us when we were ambushed."

Riker didn't recognize the man, but at the time of the battle he hadn't been looking at the faces of his allies. He was just trying to survive.

The man jabbed an elbow into his young comrade's side. Jerking his chin at Riker, he grumbled, "This guy went head to head with the Chieftain that almost gutted General Herschel."

"Really?" The younger one's eyes widened a bit. Whistling he said, "I heard that Chieftain was a beast. Massive in size. Biggest anyone has ever seen. How'd you manage to survive?"

Riker shrugged. "I just did what I had to do."

The grizzled veteran chuckled. "You can learn a thing or two from this guy, Timor. He's pretty skilled. Not as skilled as his Klingon or as our Supreme Commander, but skilled nonetheless."

Riker arched an eyebrow. He assumed the soldier's statement was a compliment. "Uh. Thanks."

"They say war is coming," the young one, Timor, replied. "I'm ready to kill some Ti'hi scum. They're not going to take this city from us."

The older man nodded. His eyes went to Riker, rolling a little. "Young bravado."

Riker smiled. Looking closer, he could see the man was missing part of his left ear. His face and neck were lined with scars that had long since healed, but still remained visible. Riker assumed the rest of his body was probably similarly marked. A hardened combat vet that had clearly seen his share of fighting. Unlike his young companion.

Riker stomped his feet again. The longer he stood still the colder he was getting. "So…General Prazak?"

The veteran turned his head and spat. He jerked his chin in the direction Will had been traveling. "Keep going the way you were headed. To the training grounds. He's there."

Timor chuckled. "Training the nobility how to fight. Glad I'm not on duty at the moment. General Prazak hates the nobility."

 _Could have fooled me with how he interacted with that woman._

Riker kept that thought silent. He pointed over his shoulder. "That way?"

The old vet nodded. "Yep. That way. If he's not in the arena, he's probably with the Quartermaster. General Herschel and Colonel Marking should be around if you can't find General Prazak."

"Thanks," Riker replied.

"Sure."

Leaving them behind, Riker continued on through the snow. The city was starting to come to life around him and he had to sidestep around a few people or carts that managed to cross his path. Occasionally, a tracked military vehicle would rumble by.

About twenty minutes later, the sounds of activity echoed against Will's eardrums. Heading that way, he found himself at a much larger training area than the one where Prazak and Worf had sparred.

The place was booming. Stopping, Riker took it all in. Soldiers hurried about, moving crates or laden down with armfuls of weapons. Others, more than likely officers and non-coms shouted orders. Most of Sardis' roads and pathways were paved and while the large assembly area appeared to be as well, Riker saw that the heavy amount of traffic, from walking and the tracked vehicles had turned the area into a quagmire of mud and snow.

"Move it," someone grumbled. Riker was forced to uproot his feet in order to avoid getting knocked down by a group of men carrying supplies. Beyond the supply operations, Riker spotted what appeared to be the actual training grounds. Moving quickly to avoid being run over, he weaved his way through the working groups and over to the arena. Even over the hustle and bustle, Riker could hear the squishing sound of the sucking mud with each of his steps. It served just to amplify his feelings of annoyance and miserableness that he hadn't been able to shake since finding Deanna absent earlier.

Two groups of approximately twenty people stood in raggedy formations on the far side of the arena. They were dressed in practical clothing, overlaid with designer armor. Armor that Riker noted never appeared to have seen combat. They held weapons loosely, uncomfortably, in their hands and their eyes wandered back and forth. A soldier strode purposefully in front of them, barking orders. Riker didn't recognize him, but from his demeanor and bearing, he placed him as a high ranking and combat hardened non-comm.

"The nobility."

Riker jumped. Turning, he found Colonel Marking had snuck up behind him.

 _Damn these silent footed scouts!_

Riker looked back at the group. Now that Marking had said it, he did recognize a few faces in the crowd; including the woman that had felt up Prazak in front of Troi at the dinner.

Marking clucked. "The nobility have been called up to fight as we prepare for the Ti'hi's possible attack." He waved a hand at the group. "As you can see, we have a lot of work to do. And that's just two groups. More will report later today."

Looking back at the nobility, Riker watched as two of them squared off. Their movements were rigid, hesitant. Neither seemed to want to make the first move.

Riker matched the smirk that Marking had on his face. "Right. I'll let you get to it. Where's Prazak?"

Pointing off to the right of the training ground, Marking said, "With the Quartermaster. See him?"

Riker peered in the direction, spotting the General in a group around a long, rectangular wooden table surrounded by crates and boxes. A vehicle was parked behind them, the back ramp down. Prazak appeared to be in deep discussion with a stocky man sporting a bald head.

Approaching, Riker hung off to the side as the burly quartermaster grumbled and flipped a hand at a stack of crates on the ground. Two soldiers nodded, picked up the boxes and departed.

Leaning against the table, the quartermaster stabbed at a stack of papers with his gloved fingers. "Where am I supposed to get this many additional rations, General? I barely have enough to distribute for the regular troops. Now I have to feed the snobility as well?"

Prazak smirked. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that insult, Gat. But it was a good one."

Gat huffed, his breath puffing out in a thick cloud. "They should feed themselves. Like they do the rest of the time."

"If anyone can find additional rations, it's you, Gat," Prazak encouraged.

"Bah!" Gat spat and rolled his eyes. "Fine. But they'll have to settle for hardtack like the rest of us if it comes to it."

"I expect nothing less," Prazak remarked while fingering the stack of papers Gat held down. "Why do you refuse to use a datapad for your inventories? All this paperwork…"

Gat snorted. "I don't tell you how to kill Ti'hi, do I, Supreme Commander?"

Prazak smirked while shaking his head. "Fine. Just show me where I need to sign."

Stepping up to the table, Riker cleared his throat.

Prazak didn't even look up. "I do not have time for you, Commander."

"It'll only take a few minutes," Riker stated forcefully.

Leaning over the table, Prazak cocked his head towards Will. "What do you want?"

Will stood tall. "Where is Counselor Troi?"

Pushing off the table, Prazak faced Riker. He'd been around the augment so much lately, he'd forgotten how large and intimidating the man's posture was.

 _No wonder so many people fear him._

Mouth set thin, Prazak made a show of looking around the yard. "I don't see her."

"Don't play games, Prazak. You know what I mean," Riker snorted.

"Do I?"

"What have you done with her?" Riker demanded.

"Why don't you call her on your little badge?" Prazak flicked the insignia pinned to the outside of Riker's jacket. The soldiers that stood by chuckled. Gat grumbled and went about his paperwork.

Will refused to be intimidated. "I did. She didn't answer."

Prazak glanced around at his comrades while shrugging. "Then how should I know where she is?"

Shaking his head, Riker rolled his eyes. "I respect you as a soldier, Prazak. I really do. But don't play these games with me. You know how serious this is."

Prazak took a step, his boots squishing in the mud. Inches apart, Riker stared up at the augment. With a sneer, Prazak growled, "Be a man and say what you want to say to me, William Riker."

"You know how I feel about her," Riker retorted, his jaw clenched so tight it was starting to hurt.

Prazak sneered. "So now you want her back? Now you suddenly feel she is worth your time?"

Riker fumed. "Don't act like you know what you're talking about. And don't you dare act like you care about her more than I do. Stay out of my head."

Chewing on his tongue, Prazak cocked his head a little. He spat on the ground, millimeters from Riker's boot. "I'm not in your head, Commander. I don't need to be. You wear your feelings on your sleeve. Tell me, Commander, why'd you leave her? Career more important at the time? Or were you just…scared? But now you suddenly want her back. What makes you think she still wants you?"

Inhaling through his nose, Riker ignored the burning in his nostrils from the frigid air. "Just tell me where she is, Prazak."

"I told you, I don't know," Prazak replied. Leaning forward, he grinned. "She was still asleep in my bed when I left this morning."

Riker wanted nothing more than to rearrange Prazak's perfect teeth. "You know this thing you have won't last, you selfish, arrogant ass."

Prazak cracked his neck dramatically. "Don't be upset that she found a better man. Our relationship may not last, but at least I have the guts to show her how I feel." His grin widened. Prazak winked. "And we've both enjoyed it. Very much."

Riker's vision blurred. All he saw was red. In a flash, he lashed out, pushing Prazak squarely in the chest. The General barely moved, but he slipped just enough for Riker to reach for the man's sword.

Riker never touched the jeweled pommel. Instead his skull rattled from a lightning fast punch from Prazak. Dazed, Riker shook his head, his face feeling like he'd ran straight into a bulkhead.

 _What the hell am I doing?_

Rapid eye blinks helped clear the stars from Will's vision just moments before Prazak hit him again, this time sending Riker to the muddy ground. His hands sank into the wet mud as he pushed himself back up. But Prazak was already there and the augment wrapped his arms around Will's back. Lifted from the ground, Will was flung through the air to slam into a number of crates stacked off to the side.

With a groan he slid downward, his backside plopping against the ground.

"Who do you think you are?" Prazak was shouting as he approached.

Mouth hanging open, Riker held out a hand in an attempt to ward the enraged General off. "I didn't mean to…"

Prazak snatched Riker's outstretched arm. Rotating, he jerked up and exposed Riker's torso. A heavy boot connected squarely into his ribs as Prazak let go of him at the same time.

When Prazak approached for a follow up blow, Riker saw his chance. He hadn't spent years in the holodeck perfecting his hand to hand combat training for no reason.

When Prazak was within reach, Riker dug his boots into the mud, pumping his legs to propel him up and forward. Fueled by a rush of adrenaline, he rammed into Prazak's midsection. Riker's momentum lifted the surprised augment from his feet before the two men landed on top of Gat's table. The weight of both combatants shattered the table instantly. Will's breath was knocked from his lungs as gravity bounced him off of Prazak's chest.

Soldier all around were shouting. He thought he heard the quartermaster cursing, probably more upset about his broken table and documents being scattered into disarray than the fight itself. He allowed himself only a moment to wonder how he'd managed to lift Prazak, body armor and all, and bring the muscular augment crashing down onto the table.

That was all Riker had time to process. Mind racing, Will knew he had to take advantage of Prazak's temporary daze. Pushing up against his opponent, Riker cocked his arm back then slammed his fist into Prazak's jaw, his body falling forward with the follow-thru.

Prazak's head snapped back from the blow. Riker wound up. He hit him again. His fist throbbed from the solidness of Prazak's jaw, but he kept hitting the other man, drawing blood from the augment's mouth.

When he wound up again, Prazak reached up and grabbed Riker's arm. Flipping his hips, Prazak swiftly took control of the fight and Will found himself flat on his back and beneath the General.

Prazak returned Riker's previous assault, hitting the Commander over and over. He reached down, grabbed a fistful of Riker's hair on each side of his head, and leaned his face towards his. "You're done."

Prazak let go. When he pulled up to stand, Riker cocked his leg back and thrust forward. His boot landed squarely in Prazak's groin.

 _No fight is ever fair._

When Prazak's hands instinctively went to clutch himself, Riker kicked again. Prazak seemed to anticipate it and the blow that was meant for the man's chin ended up grazing harmlessly off his shoulder.

Turning onto his stomach, Riker furiously attempted to scramble out from beneath the General. When Prazak reached forward, Riker turned and backhanded Prazak across the face.

It was enough to stun the man, but not put him down. He was almost out of reach, when he felt Prazak snatch his ankle and jerk. Being flipped onto his back once again, Riker moved to strike, but was hit again by Prazak's solid fists. Lashing out in defense, Riker tried to jab Prazak's body, but the man's armor protected his torso. In retaliation for the attempt, Prazak elbowed Riker in the sternum.

Gagging, Will wanted to vomit. He was a bit astonished when Prazak backed off, allowing Riker to stand. But the relief was only temporary and the moment Riker was back on both feet, Prazak closed the distance, swinging with all his might for Riker's temple.

Riker blocked the attack and countered with hook of us own. The fight stayed upright and the two men started trading blow for blow.

Riker's head swam. He was dizzy and his eyes stung from the sweat and grime that trickled down his forehead. He was starting to wear down. But his opponent appeared only slightly winded.

 _Damn. This needs to end._

Another punch from Prazak sent Riker sprawling into the mud. Prazak loomed over him. The freezing mud and snow actually felt cool and Riker could see himself staying down, soaking up the cold in order to cool off his sweaty body. But he started to push himself up with his hands, albeit slowly. To his knees. He was about to stand when a shout rang out through the crowd.

"What the hell is going on?"

He didn't know why, but Deanna's angered voice surprised him. When he'd arrived and found that she was not here, he just never thought that she'd find her way to the same place he had that morning. But he also hadn't been here very long before the fight broke out. Which means Deanna was already on her way here, looking for him too. Or was she looking for Prazak?

"Deanna," Riker winced. His head was pounding.

She shook her head quickly, silencing him. Riker took the opportunity to glance at Prazak. He'd dropped back a number of paces. His hands hung at his side, but he did not have them balled into fists any longer. He sported a number of bloody cuts on his face and he was caked in mud and snow. Will imagined he looked about the same; probably worse.

It hadn't occurred to Will during the fight, but looking at the General now, he saw that Prazak had not once attempted to draw his swords.

Prazak turned his head to the side and spat a wad of frothy blood into the mud. He didn't say anything.

Troi took a step forward. The soldiers parted the way for her so quickly a few stumbled into one another. "Do not tell me that you two are fighting because of me. How stupid would that be?"

Riker sighed. It _was_ stupid. He just shrugged a little.

"Unbelievable!" Troi cried, clearly frustrated. "What's the matter with you, Will? And you, Andrej? What is it with men fighting over a woman? Like we are some prize to be won!"

"Imzadi," Will mumbled.

Troi held up a hand. "Don't."

With a sigh, Riker clamped his mouth shut. There was no point in arguing. A subtle look at Prazak again revealed to Riker that the other man was also looking somewhat ashamed beneath the harsh glare of Deanna Troi. But Prazak was being smart. He kept his mouth shut and didn't argue.

Deanna bent at the waist. Digging Riker's combadge out of the mud, she tossed it to him. Catching it against his chest, he hadn't even realized he'd lost it.

"Captain Picard is about to depart the _Enterprise_ ," Troi said. "When he couldn't reach you on the combadge he called Worf and I. We went looking for you, fearing something had happened. But what do I find? You fighting with him." Deanna shot an arm towards Prazak.

"I came here looking for you!" Riker exclaimed.

Troi crossed her arms over her chest, but said nothing in response.

Under his breath he mumbled, "Because you were gone all night. With him."

"Like I said," Troi rolled her eyes, "unbelievable."

She didn't wait for him to respond. Spinning, she turned her back to both men and pushed through the crowd, disappearing just as promptly as she had arrived.

Riker kept staring in her direction until he heard Prazak grunt. Looking at the other man, Riker saw Prazak walking to him.

Prazak held out his hand. "It appears we are both in the doghouse, as the old saying goes."

Riker stared at the General's outstretched hand. With a sigh, he grabbed it. Prazak hauled him to his feet. When he was standing, Riker dropped the General's hand.

Prazak looked at the crowd. "Alright! Back to work! Show's over."

Soldiers chuckled while returning to their duties. Gat joined the two men. Herschel had appeared from somewhere as well.

"You owe me a table," Gat huffed.

"You're the quartermaster." Prazak wiped his bloodied lips with his forearm. "I'm sure you can acquire another table."

"My paperwork is ruined." Gat waved at the crumbles of parchment strewn about the ground. A few soldiers had already started to pluck them from the mud.

Prazak wiped his lips again. He stared at the blood that smeared his sleeve for a second before smiling at Gat. "And that is why you should use a datapad."

Throwing his hands up, Gat grumbled under his breath then went about pushing and directing the soldiers that were collecting up his muddy paperwork.

"Commander?" Prazak asked with a look to Riker.

Riker rubbed his jaw. "Are your fists made of tritanium?"

Prazak laughed. Slapping Riker on the shoulder, he said, "You've got a solid punch yourself." He shifted his weight from side to side. "And kick. Training with Lt. Worf, I assume?"

Riker tried to frown but found himself smiling a little even though it hurt to do so. "We are idiots. But I can't help it. Not when it comes to Deanna."

"I understand," Prazak replied.

"I have no right acting as if I should be a part of her decisions when it comes to," Riker looked Prazak up and down, "in this case, you."

"Like I said, I understand," Prazak repeated. "And I did purposefully provoke you."

"You did," Riker stated.

"You called me an ass," Prazak joked.

"And arrogant," Riker added. "Selfish too."

"True, but I'm not an ass!" Prazak laughed.

"Debatable," Riker cajoled.

"He's got a point, Andrej," Herschel added with a grin.

Rolling his eyes, Prazak groaned. "You should go prepare for your Captain's arrival. As should I."

Herschel raised his arms. "Once again leaving me to clean up your mess. Not to mention dealing with an annoyed Gat. Thanks, Andrej."

"Any time, brother." Prazak winked.

With his own eye roll, Herschel peeled away to join Gat.

When Prazak stepped off, Riker found himself falling in behind the General.

* * *

"The Captain is on his way back to the surface," Crusher hummed while waving her tricorder over Dickerson's chest.

"I'd like to speak with him," Dickerson stated. "But not here."

"I'm not sure that is a good idea," Crusher mused.

Dickerson didn't frown. Instead, he smiled and gently placed a hand on the doctor's arm, stopping her movements. He had to convince her. He lowered his voice. "Please, doctor. There are things that I need to discuss with him. Away from those that go to great lengths to appear not to be listening."

With his eyes, he motioned towards the door where the two guards had their backs to them.

Crusher sighed. "Alright. Your scans indicate you're healthy enough to move. Yet,-"

"I feel much better," Dickerson smiled. "And wouldn't it be good for me to move around? Stretch my legs?"

Crusher studied him for a moment. He removed his hand from her arm, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable.

"Please, doctor," he pleaded.

When Crusher's tight lips turned into a soft smile, he knew he had her. "Okay."

"Thank you." Dickerson was pushing himself out of the bed before the Starfleet doctor changed her mind.

One of the guards looked back. When he saw Dickerson up and moving, he turned around. "What is going on?"

"I'm going to take my patient for a short walk," Crusher told the man.

He shook his head. "I cannot allow that."

Ensuring he came off as nonthreatening, Dickerson said, "Its fine. Really. I'm sure your General would approve."

"No," the man said.

"How about," Dickerson took a slow step, wobbling his legs a litte, "you come with us? That way you're still following your orders."

Dickerson couldn't see the man's face behind the helmet. The guard's head turned towards his companion. The second guard looked back, shrugged, then nodded.

"Fine," the first man said.

"Thank you," Dickerson stated, attempting to sound sincere.

When Doctor Crusher was ready, Dickerson allowed her to guide him out of the room. He kept his movements slow, jerking every now and again as if he was having some difficulty. Crusher breathed words of encouragement, which Dickerson ignored.

Soon they were out of the infirmary and heading down a short hallway. The guard stayed close behind the pair. He didn't speak. Dickerson took note of the soldier's stance. He was alert, but his posture was slightly loose. He didn't see Dickerson as a threat.

 _Just like I want._

As they continued down the corridor, Dickerson waited for the right moment. The hallway was empty and he noted that two rooms they'd passed appeared empty as well.

With a shout, he wrapped his arms around his stomach, pitching forward.

"Lieutenant!" Crusher clamored.

Groaning, Dickerson staggered. Turning, he lowered his head in a way that still allowed him to look upward. He dropped to one knee. "It hurts."

"I knew this was a bad idea," Crusher mumbled while reaching into her lab coat for her tricorder.

Dickerson swayed dramatically.

"Help him. Don't let him fall over," Crusher told the guard.

The man stepped forward. He reached out to grab Dickerson under the armpit. It was the moment Dickerson been waiting for; the soldier had left his weapons exposed.

With a quickness, Dickerson attacked. Springing forward, he ripped the guard's smaller blade, a dagger with jagged teeth on each side, from his belt.

"Wha,-" the startled soldier started, but his words died in his throat.

Launching to his feet, Dickerson held the blade at an upward angle. Ramming it into the underside of the soldier's exposed throat, just below the helmet, Dickerson plunged the blade in up to the hilt, feeling the man's body tense.

The soldier's hands went to his neck, but Dickerson pulled the blade free. Blood spilled freely from the wound and the soldier dropped to his knees. Collapsing backward, his body convulsed as his blood spurted from the wound. Seconds later he was dead.

Turning, Dickerson saw Crusher was in shock, her eyes locked on the dead man.

Dickerson took a step towards her. Crusher's eyes shot from the corpse to him. Her hand went for her combadge. Weapon still in one hand, Dickerson grabbed her wrist with the other, pulling her hand away from the communication device. He jerked hard enough to cause her to yelp in pain.

"Why?" she stammered.

"Why do you think?" he laughed.

She attempted to pull out of his grasp. Pivoting his hips, Dickerson spun and threw the woman into the wall. Crusher groaned and crumbled to the floor. He saw she was still conscious, but barely.

Dickerson crouched down in front of the injured woman. He plucked the combadge from her uniform. "I'll take this. Can't have them locating you with it."

"Please," Crusher mumbled. "Don't."

Dickerson pressed the tip of the blood stained knife to her throat. "Don't what? Kill you?"

"Please," she moaned again.

"I'm not going to kill you, Doctor Crusher." Dickerson laughed evilly. "Not yet at least." He reached into her lab coat and took her tricorder. "You scanned me with this. I assume you did the same to Prazak? So his blood scans should be in here, yes?"

"Why?" Crusher whispered.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Dickerson stuck his tongue out a bit, biting down on the end. "I would have thought that after all these decades Starfleet would have recruited smarter officers. I suppose that was wishful thinking on my part."

"You can't," Crusher moaned.

Dickerson watched her eyelids flutter. He didn't have any more time for taunts. The other guard soon would grow suspicious and come looking for them. He set the blade, tricorder, and combadge down. "It's time to go now, Doctor." Standing, he pulled her to her feet. "Goodnight."

Cocking his arm back, Dickerson slammed his fist into Crusher's temple. The woman dropped instantly.

Moving quickly, Dickerson started to clean up the scene, needing to make his way out without being detected. In order for the operation to work, he had to escape before Prazak was alerted.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

* * *

The pounding on the inside of her skull throbbed non-stop. Her eyelids felt like they were weighted down, making it difficult to focus. She knew she was moving, but her legs were sluggish. She was being pulled along.

Inhaling, Beverly Crusher suppressed a wave of nausea and forced herself to concentrate. She was cold. That meant she was probably outside. As the cloudiness that blanketed her mind gradually started to lift, she realized she was being led somewhere; led by Dickerson.

Dickerson had stolen the clothing, armor, and weapons of the soldier he'd murdered. The uniform was ill-fitting, but it seemed to serve its purpose, they'd yet to be confronted or challenged. Examining herself, Beverly found she was wearing her same clothes as well as a thick coat with a fur lined hood. The hood was over her head, obscuring her features. Beneath the ends of the coat sleeves, she felt tight bonds securing her wrists.

Even through the heavy coat she could feel the sharp edge of the dagger pressed against her left kidney. Dickerson's other hand held her arm in a vice like grip.

She was being kidnapped.

"Why are you doing this?" she managed to ask, even with the wave of nausea that rose in her stomach.

"You were never part of the original plan, doctor," Dickerson whispered in her ear. "Yet, keeping you is an opportunity I could not pass up. If I can't decipher the formulaic codes of Prazak's blood, I may need you to do it. For some reason the extract has not stopped me from aging completely, its only slowed the process. I need to know what Prazak does differently."

"You've been taking the extract?" Beverly asked. Unlike the scans taken of Prazak, Dickerson's scans had not revealed any traces of the foreign substance.

"I had to," he snorted. "I had to see if it worked."

"You're insane," Beverly moaned. "What makes you think I'll help you?"

"Because you are Starfleet. And this is a Starfleet mission."

She felt his grip tighten around her arm as two soldiers appeared down the walkway ahead of them. He pressed the knife further against her back. "Don't make any sudden movements."

For half a second, Crusher debated crying out to the two soldiers, but when they turned down another pathway and out of sight, her chance to call for help disappeared.

 _If only it had been Lieutenant Worf or Commander Riker. They have to be looking for me by now._

The appearance of the two men seemed to have spooked her kidnapper. At the next alleyway, Dickerson jerked her arm, forcing her down the dark passageway. The alley was vacant, but it smelled of trash and alcohol, reminders of the previous night's festivities within the local establishments.

"What Starfleet mission are you talking about?" Crusher breathed through her mouth. If she could escape, she'd want to learn as much information as she could.

"The one I was sent here to complete. To kill the augments and obtain their secrets," Dickerson scoffed. "Unfortunately, those idiot creatures I aligned myself with haven't been able to kill Prazak. Neither could the Klingons. I'm hopeful that trained Starfleet personnel can succeed where others have failed."

"You were responsible for the Klingons invading this planet?" Crusher said.

"We thought a race of bloodthirsty barbarians could have easily taken care of these people, but we were wrong. Never get involved with Klingons, Doctor. Trust me. But it seems I underestimated Prazak. Not this time."

"I think you've underestimated many things," Crusher remarked coolly. "We are not going to help you commit murder."

His grip tightened again. Crusher bit back against the pain that flared in her arm. Her captor went quiet as they turned down an intersecting pathway.

"It's not murder," Dickerson hissed after a few moments. "They deserve what is coming to them."

"Nothing we've uncovered supports that," Crusher rebutted.

With a snort, Dickerson yanked on her arm again. He didn't respond to her statement, he simply led her further down the network of connecting alleys.

Beverly wanted to keep pressing him, but he was clearly unstable and unpredictable. She shouldn't push her luck. So she concentrated on where he was leading her. She wasn't familiar with the outside of Sardis, having spent the majority of her time in the infirmary. The further along they went, the more disoriented to her surroundings she became. And here, in the back alleyways of the low level buildings, it was difficult for her to locate the Empress' Tower even though it rose higher than any other structure, even the wall.

A gust of icy wind cut deep and for a moment Beverly thought she heard voices; faint, but still there. Perhaps others were close again. But wind was notorious for playing tricks with sound. Add that to the fact that she was probably suffering from a mild concussion, and Beverly wasn't sure what to believe.

Yet the voices must have been real because Dickerson responded too. Stopping suddenly, he pulled her back, pushing her against a stone wall of a closed up shop. Beverly bit back the bile that rose in her throat when Dickerson pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the cold stones. She didn't think he'd assault her, but the deranged look in his eyes made her question that thought. Eventually the voices drifted away.

As if he could read her thoughts, he licked his lips. "I could have you right here if I wanted."

Repulsed by his words, Beverly turned her face away as best she could when he pushed her hood back slightly. Removing his stolen helmet, he buried his face into her neck and hair, inhaling deeply.

Every muscle in her body went rigid. She screamed internally, disgusted by his actions; by his touch. But Dickerson didn't do anything more. He pulled his head back and smiled. "I'll save that for later. First, we have to get out of the city."

His words were anything but comforting. Beverly knew she had to clear her thoughts. Dickerson said he'd been taking the extract. Perhaps he could read her thoughts, just like Prazak. And the last thing she wanted was Dickerson knowing what she knew about Starfleet, Captain Picard, and the _Enterprise._

With another hard jerk, he got her moving again. Passing a pile of trash, he tossed the helmet aside. Beverly watched as he withdrew her combadge, dropped it to the ground, and then smashed it with his boot. "Good luck to your friends on finding you now," he snickered.

Her facial features remained neutral, but it seemed Dickerson had thought this kidnapping through. The further he took her, the less chance she had of escaping. He was taking her to the wall. Or at least to a portion of the wall that seemed to intersect with the base of the mountains that surrounded the northern and southern borders Sardis. Looking towards the sky, Beverly took in the sight before her. This close to the structure, she was impressed by how high it rose. The material it was constructed from was some sort of metal or steel and she imagined it must have taken great effort to build.

She wondered if anyone on top was looking down at them. Maybe that's where the voices had come from.

 _Why would they be looking this way? If there is anyone up there, they'd be looking outward. Yelling won't do any good._

"So where are you taking me? How do you plan to get out of the city? Beyond the wall?" she asked with a steady voice, even though her insides were still twisted in a knot of disgust.

"The same way the Ti'hi plan to get in," Dickerson chuckled.

He pushed Crusher against an outcropping of jagged stones. "Don't move."

She did as he said; she didn't move. He held her gaze for a moment, then started to kick his foot back and forth across the snow. Crusher watched as his efforts revealed an old, rusted grate buried beneath the white fluff.

"As they're technology advanced they abandoned these old drainage systems for better, more efficient means. As a result, they've forgotten about many of these old systems," he smirked. Dickerson slid the dagger into his belt. With both hands he grasped the metal bars. Straining, he pulled. After some effort, Beverly saw the grate start to budge. A few minutes later, he had it open.

Wiping his gloves on his thighs, he stood. "Now, all we have to do-"

Dickerson froze. He was staring off into a shadowy alcove near the alley they'd exited. Beverly glanced in the direction that had caught her kidnapper's attention. Her heart thumped in her chest, racing at the prospect of a random patrol having stumbled upon them.

But it wasn't a patrol. At least not a patrol of soldiers.

From the shadows of a nearby alleyway, a deep, angry growl emanated. Two red, disembodied, specks hovered in the darkness. Moments later, emerging into the greyness was the massive cat that Crusher had seen with Prazak from time to time.

Hunched low, muscles taut, the cat, Beverly couldn't recall its name, slowly stalked forward. A fearsome rumble from the beast's chest echoed off the surrounding structures. Snarling, its fangs protruded from its maw, fur spiked on the back of the cat's neck. It kept a low posture and its growl intensified. All the time it kept its black and red orbs locked solely on Dickerson.

Beverly was entranced by the animal's eyes. She'd heard the stories of how the eyes changed color based on mood. Whatever the current colors represented, it wasn't good. At least not for Dickerson; the cat's marked prey.

Snow crunched beneath its powerful paws with each purposeful step. Beverly shivered involuntarily at the sound. The animal kept its gaze fully on Dickerson; and from the look on his face, he was terrified.

Even though the animal paid her no mind, Beverly couldn't suppress the fear she felt. She'd witnessed just what the massive cat was capable of when it tore the throat out of the hound that was trying to kill Prazak during the ambush.

The spotted beast continued the slow stalking of its prey. Dickerson was shaking like a leaf. Reaching down, he clumsily plucked the dagger from his belt. Beverly wondered if he'd forgotten, in his terrified state, that he also had a sword. Each time the cat moved forward, he took a step backwards.

"Come any closer and I'll gut you," Dickerson stuttered. His hand shook as he waved the weapon carelessly in front of him.

The cat paused, almost as if it understood the man's words. But then it crouched, going taut once again. Opening its mouth, it bellowed out a horrendous roar. Beverly couldn't cover her ears due to her bindings, but she watched Dickerson react in just such a manner.

The moment his hands went to his ears, the cat attacked. With another vicious belt from its throat, it lunged. The distance between predator and prey was fairly significant, but it was nothing for the beast.

The cat slammed into Dickerson, knocking him off his feet with ease. Snarling, the magnificent creature snapped at the man's throat. Dickerson barely got his arm up in time to save himself and the cat's massive jaws locked onto his forearm.

He cried out in pain. "Get it off of me!"

Beverly did nothing.

Head jarring from side to side, the animal tore into Dickerson's flesh. The scent of fresh blood immediately filling the air.

Beverly bounded to her feet. She wanted to run, but when she saw Dickerson still clutching the knife, she cried out instead. "Help!" she hollered in hopes that someone, anyone, could hear her. "Help us!"

Her head swam and she collapsed to her knees, her sudden movement and the effort of crying out for assistance making her dizzy. But she had to keep trying. "Help!"

She crawled forward. Towards man and beast. Dickerson's arm was still firmly clamped between the cat's jaws. Before Beverly could reach them, she watched with horror as Dickerson jabbed the dagger into the underside of the cat's foreleg.

The cat howled and released his arm, leaping back off of its prey to land shakily in the snow. Dickerson scrambled to his feet as the cat circled him cautiously. He was clearly woozy from the attack and blood poured freely from his arm, which he held close to his body. But the cat was hurt too, favoring its uninjured legs as it hobbled around its attacker.

"You damn beast!" he spat.

Beverly heard shouting in the distance. Maybe someone had heard her. Or the cat's roar. Or both. She screamed again. "This way! Over here! Help us!"

"Shut up!" Dickerson yelled. Spinning, he swung a closed fist in her direction.

But she was out of his reach. And his foolhardy attack had caused him to take his eyes off of the cat. It only took mere seconds, but it was enough. The animal sprung. His feet shuffled and Dickerson fell to his backside as the cat dug its claws into his thighs, scraping against the armor plates and down to his exposed knees. When the claws pierced his skin, Dickerson howled. Using the stability of Dickerson's pinned legs, the cat pulled itself up its prey's body to take another aim at the throat. Dickerson raised the dagger over the animal's head.

Beverly knew she had to act. Quickly, she jumped to her feet and threw herself into the fray, no longer caring about the pain and dizziness she felt. Her shoulder connected with Dickerson's arm as he was attempting to plunge his weapon into the cat's skull. He didn't drop the dagger, but Beverly's hit did throw off his aim. The weapon pierced the animal's shoulder. With another cry the cat released him and backed off.

Yelping, the animal staggered. It let out a pained cry then collapsed, the dagger still lodged in its shoulder. Snow puffed into the air under the beast's weight. Crusher couldn't take her eyes off the wounded creature. The animal that, for some reason, had attempted to save her. She had to do something for it.

"Damnit!" Dickerson grumbled, but his voice was shaky. Wounded. He snatched Beverly's arm, pushing her towards the grate.

She struggled against his hold and was rewarded with a punch from her captor. Her legs wobbled from the hit, but Dickerson held her upright.

The shouts were growing closer. Beverly screamed incoherently.

"Damn you!" Dickerson spat again.

He captor glanced between her, the wounded cat, and the grate. He must have known he was only moments from being captured. He chose the grate.

"I'm going to ensure you die for this," Dickerson yelled. "I'm going to kill you myself, doctor. But not until I've gotten my use of you."

Body pressed to her back, he forced her forward. "Go!" he ordered. "Go or I'll say damn it all and slit your throat right now. Go!"

Survival propelled her legs. When they reached the grate, she managed to glance over her shoulder one last time. The cat was lying where it had fallen, its massive back moving up and down as it breathed. Blood caked its fur, melting the snow around its body as the warm liquid came in contact with the powder. She couldn't be sure, but Beverly would have sworn that when the cat looked at her, its eyes had changed to a golden hue. When it looked at Dickerson they were black and red again. It let out a pained moan.

Now the shouting was getting louder. Enraged, Dickerson shoved Beverly in the back. Next thing she knew she was falling into the hole of the open grate. Into darkness once again. Dickerson jumped down a second later. The loud clank that followed was clearly from him pulling the grate closed as he jumped.

"Get moving," he groaned. "Move!"

Beverly did as he ordered, taking a cautious and frightened step into the black unknown.

* * *

Prazak sighed as the shuttlecraft descended. The Starfleet personnel were with him, minus Doctor Crusher. Herschel was present, but Marking had stayed at the training area to continue with the planning for the possible attack.

Since the early morning brawl, Troi had not spoken to him. Not even in his mind. He'd wanted to reach out to her, to apologize for being a fool, but knew better than to probe. That would only make things worse.

She stood next to Lieutenant Worf, with Commander Riker on the other side of the Klingon. When Prazak looked towards her, he waited till she turned her head towards him. When she did, he smiled a little. He mouthed the words 'I'm sorry'. She responded by crossing her arms and turning her attention back to the shuttlecraft.

Prazak let out an exacerbated sigh. He never should have provoked Riker. Hell, if he'd known this was how things would turn out, he never would have gotten involved with Deanna to begin with.

 _Yeah right. You still would have. Because she makes you feel things you haven't felt in a long time. Things Lady Sa couldn't give you. Things no noblewoman could give you. And now you've gone and ruined it. Good job, Andrej._

The internal thoughts made him scowl.

"What is it?" Herschel asked from his side.

Prazak kicked at the snow. "Nothing."

"Rethinking that fight, huh?" Herschel pressed with a smirk.

Prazak scratched the stubble on the underside of his chin. "Seriously, I don't want to talk about it."

"You're great at a lot of things, Andrej, but I swear, figuring out women is not one of them," his friend responded without consideration for Andrej's statement.

 _Leave it to one of my best friends to not let the subject go._

Even though he tried to suppress it, Prazak still laughed a little. "And you've figured them out?"

"You don't see me fighting over women, do you? You should come to the taverns with us more often once this is over. That's where you'll find the real women. Stay away from the nobility."

His eyes went to Troi again. "I found a real woman, but like an idiot, I've more than likely lost her."

"She never would have stayed. You know that," Herschel replied matter-of-factly.

Prazak rolled his eyes. "I wish people would stop reminding me of that fact."

"You know, Andrej, you should take a moment to at least compliment Commander Riker."

Prazak looked back towards his friend. "Why?"

"What he did took guts." Herschel shrugged.

"Why do you say that?"

"When you sparred with Worf, they didn't know who we were yet. They didn't know of our past. Of us being the children of eugenics," Herschel explained. "They do now. Commander Riker stood up to you knowing you're an augment. He had to have known there was no way he'd win, but he did it anyway." Pausing, the German man looked back at the craft, its runners touching down into the snow. "And he did it for Counselor Troi. He loves her."

 _So do I._

"So what are you saying, Wilhelm?" Prazak wanted to know.

Herschel shrugged, watching the craft power down. "I don't know. I understand how you feel about Troi, but…like I said, I don't know. What I do know is that Riker's one tough hurensohn."

Prazak smirked. "Truth, brother. Truth."

The door of the transport opened, drawing the augments' attention to it. Captain Picard stepped out. Riker stepped forward to greet his commanding officer. Prazak wondered how Riker would explain his fresh wounds to the man, but he did find himself agreeing with Herschel; Riker was a tough one.

The craft doors didn't shut behind the Captain. Prazak smiled uncontrollably when a woman he'd never thought he'd see again emerged.

"Are you kidding me?" Herschel huffed.

Guinan smiled at the Starfleet personnel who looked just as surprised to see her as Prazak did. But she made her way straight to him, not even reacting to the cold and snow.

"Hello, Andrej," she cooed softly. "Wilhelm."

Prazak exchanged a look with his friend. To Guinan he said, "Captain Picard mentioned your name, but I didn't think you were actually with him. You're a Starfleet officer now?"

Guinan laughed. "Good to see you too. And I'm not a Starfleet officer. I'm a bartender."

Prazak's brow furrowed. When Guinan's smile widened into a grin, Prazak laughed. "Of course you are!"

Stepping forward, he wrapped her up in a hug. When it ended, he held her back at arms' length. "You look…the same."

"Stunning, as always," Herschel mumbled.

Guinan's eyes drifted to the side, looking a tad bashful. "How old are you now? Thirty-five? Forty?"

Prazak laughed again. "I stopped counting."

"Well, you're as handsome as ever," Guinan quipped. Reaching up, she brushed her fingers over his cheek. "Even with this scruff on your face."

"It helps with the cold." Prazak smiled.

Guinan huffed while rolling her eyes. "Sure it does. It's not even a full beard."

Stepping over to the other man, she embraced Herschel. "Looking good too, Wilhelm. Where's John?" she asked once they'd separated.

"Training our forces," Herschel answered. "But I'm sure he'll be happy to see you as well. If I recall correctly, he had a soft spot for you back in the day."

Guinan grinned a little. "You could have let me know that back then. Anyway, when I heard you all were still alive I knew I had to come see you. See all that you've done here."

Prazak felt his face flush. "We do what we can."

"Of course," Guinan responded. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "How are you? Really?"

Prazak shrugged. "Surviving."

"Right," Guinan remarked. She looked about to say more when shouting interrupted the reunion.

Everyone turned.

"What the hell?" Prazak growled, all happiness caused by the unexpected reunion vanishing.

Two soldiers sprinted towards the group. Behind them were others. Four others in fact., carrying Zoja between them.

At once, Prazak's mood darkened. "What is this? What happened?"

"What's going on?" Picard asked as he came to stand next to Prazak, the rest of the officers forming around them.

The first soldier to reach the group removed his helmet. He was slightly out of breath. "General, we found her along the southern edge of the wall. Near the barrier break."

"What…" Prazak words died on his lips as the men gently, carefully placed the wounded animal on the ground.

"We were on routine patrol," the soldier reported. His voice wavered. He was clearly scared for the animal. "We heard shouts. Heard Zoja's roar. We ran in the direction of the sounds."

Kneeling next to her, Prazak stared into the cat's cloudy eyes. Removing one of his gloves, he stroked her head, Zoja mewed softly in response to his touch. Her fur was both warm and cold against his bare palm. "What happened to you, my dear? Who did this to you?"

Zoja huffed. Keeping one hand on her head, Prazak examined his feline companion. The soldiers that had found her bandaged her wounds. Jutting from her shoulder, bandages placed carefully about, was the hilt of a dagger.

"Alert the doctors!" Herschel yelled at the shaken soldiers.

A non-com grabbed two men and ran off.

Prazak indicated the dagger with a jerk of his chin. "One of ours."

"None of our people would do this, Andrej," Herschel said as he knelt down to softly pet Zoja's spine.

"Then who?" Prazak whispered. Shuffling to the side, he replaced his glove and slid his arms under the big cat's body.

Pushing up with his lower legs, Prazak stood, lifting Zoja in his arms. He heard a few gasps, probably from Picard's people. He didn't care. He wasn't trying to impress anyone with his strength. He had to get Zoja to the infirmary. If anyone could save her, it was Belan. She knew the cat's anatomy and had treated Zoja in the past. Maybe the Starfleet doctor could help as well.

"Get out of my way," he bellowed, but no one stood in his path. Quickly, he hurried to the infirmary, hoping against hope that it wasn't already too late.

* * *

A pale orange glow illuminated the far end of the tunnel. Crusher's headache had dulled to a low throb. She had no idea how long they'd been traveling; they had never emerged onto the surface. Dickerson's knowledge of the drainage system was disturbing and it appeared the Ti'hi had secretly connected Sardis' old network of tunnels into their own. At numerous points in the journey, Dickerson had led her through hidden breaks in the earth or trapdoors that had been camouflaged to blend in with the surroundings.

 _Crafty little bastards. Even if the soldiers or my people followed us into the tunnels, they'd probably never find us._

Crusher winced against the glare of the lights as she and her captor exited the tunnel into a large cavern. Inhaling, she took in the sight before her. The cavern reached further than she could see and everywhere Ti'hi were gathered. The stench was close to unbearable and she gagged involuntarily when the foul odor penetrated her nostrils.

A number of the creatures paused when they saw the humans. They began to chattered incoherently, appearing agitated. Almost every one of them was armed to some degree. Beverly recognized everything from swords, to daggers, to crudely made spears, and even crossbows. Off to the right a number of the foul beasts were carefully handing large, round objects to each other.

"Keep moving," Dickerson ordered, jabbing her in the back. At some point in their escape he'd remembered that he had a sword. He held it against her back now.

He was also suffering from his wounds. Crusher recognized his labored breathing and the sharp inhales of pain coming from her captor. He'd managed to wrap his arm, stemming the bleeding, but Prazak's cat had done quite a number on him. Beverly only hoped that the feline had somehow managed to survive.

Taking a step, Crusher didn't argue. As they descended further into the cave, the Ti'hi moved from their path. A few dared to scoot towards them, harassing Beverly, pawing at her clothes. Their guttural noises as their actions grew bolder disturbed her greatly. When once clutched onto her coat, she pulled away.

"Back off!" Dickerson snapped, shoving the creature back.

The Ti'hi did as he said. Beverly pressed her eyes shut for a moment, actually thanking Dickerson, albeit silently, for keeping the creatures at bay. She didn't want to think what they would do if they got their hands on her.

They kept moving. The gathered Ti'hi, started to lose interest in the newcomers and returned to whatever they'd been doing. Most were squabbling about in small groups. Beverly spied a handful engaging in some sort of game played with what looked like crudely made dice while others watched, croaking and shoving the players. Others ate. Beverly tried not to gag again while seeing the Ti'hi striping meat from the bones of whatever poor being had died in order to feed them.

The entire scene was disturbing, so she concentrated on her breathing and gazed forward. She could see where Dickerson was leading her. They were headed towards the far end of the cave, before it branched off into a number of separate tunnels. Situated there was a gathering of larger Ti'hi, gathered around a table.

These Ti'hi appeared to be in charge, their size, clothing and weaponry far superior to those of the lesser creatures. At the end of the table sat the creature that Beverly recognized from the ambush. The one that had almost killed Riker and Herschel. A cold shiver ran down her spine as the creature saw her and her captor approach.

The Chieftain stood; slowly, deliberately. Those with him turned towards the humans, snarling and chuckling as they did. Beverly recognized the scars the Ti'hi had received during the ambush, but they were already healed over. She couldn't help wondering about their anatomy and healing abilities.

Dickerson stopped a few paces away from the gathered council. Spread out on the table was a map of the city they'd just left. She saw a number of markers scattered along the map, annotating what she assumed was battle formations.

 _They're more advanced than I thought. At least militaristically._

"What is this?" The Chieftain snarled. Even without her combadge, with its built in universal translator, Beverly understood the Ti'hi. He spoke in the common tongue, probably for Dickerson's benefit.

"I had no choice," Dickerson replied. "They were growing suspicious."

The Chieftain huffed. Beverly caught a whiff of his foul breath. She bit her lower lip and remained silent.

"You were supposed to remain within the city in order to signal so we could advance, you fool!" the Chieftain spat.

"Kill him, Baut, we don't need him!" one of the other Chieftains shouted.

The leader, Baut, grinned. "If he doesn't tell me what I want to know, then perhaps I shall do just that." He picked up the warhammer next to his chair. He let the weapon hang at his side. "You are bleeding, human. Why are you bleeding?"

"Prazak's cat attacked me during our escape," Dickerson confessed. "But I'll survive."

"Did you kill it?" Baut asked.

"I think so," Dickerson's head bopped up and down, "Yes. Yes its dead."

Baut tightened his grip on the warhammer. Fast as lightning, his other hand shot forward. Seizing Dickerson by the throat, Baut lifted the wounded man from his feet, spun, and slammed him down onto the table, rattling and knocking over a number of the little markers. Beverly flinched, but so far they'd ignored her. But she knew, somehow she knew, that if Baut killed Dickerson, she'd be next.

"Tell me you brought me the cat's eyes," Baut snarled in Dickerson's face.

Dickerson's eyes bulged. He'd dropped his sword when Baut had grabbed him and now his hands clawed and the Ti'hi's muscled hand. "I...I...didn't have time. I had to get away before...soldiers...summoned."

"Incompetent fool!" Baut snarled. "What are General Prazak's battle plans?"

Struggling for air, Dickerson squirmed beneath the Ti'hi's grasp.

"Answer me!"

Beverly spoke, the words exiting her mouth before she even realized she was speaking. "He's in a defensive posture."

Every eye turned towards her. Baut sneered and released Dickerson. "Who are you?"

Beverly watched as Dickerson rolled off the table, gasping for air and clutching his injured throat. Her eyes went back to Baut. "I'm his," she nodded at Dickerson, "doctor. He tricked us and I was helping him. But I spent enough time in the city to hear what Prazak was planning."

"And what is he planning?" Baut asked, taking a step towards her.

Beverly willed the courage to not shy away from the creature. She imagined showing fear would be seen as weakness. She had to buy time. "He suspects you will attack, but doesn't know when or how."

"We should attack immediately, Baut," another Chieftain suggested. "Catch them off guard."

Baut ignored the other Ti'hi. He kept his eyes on Beverly. Grabbing her by the arm, he dragged her closer to the table, kicking Dickerson out of the way as he did. Baut pointed at the map. Or specifically at the representation of the Empress' Tower. "How has he arrayed his forces to guard the Empress?"

Beverly hesitated. She had no idea, but she couldn't say that.

"Speak, human, or I'll kill you right now and let my foot soldiers feast!" Baut spat, drool spilling from his lips.

Beverly gulped. "He has forces dedicated to protecting the tower. And there's the royal guards."

"The royal guards are not combat soldiers," Baut surmised. "They will be no problem. It's getting through the regular troops that will be difficult."

"Kill Prazak and the rest will surrender," Dickerson crowed. He'd found his footing and shouldered between two of the other Chieftains. "He doesn't have the manpower to fend off our sneak attacks as well as a frontal assault. But if you kill him, the others will give up. Their will to fight will be shattered. And then we'll both get what we want."

Baut growled, "I care not about your precious extract, human."

"But killing Prazak will suit both our needs. I'll have his blood and you'll have his heart."

"What?" Beverly asked without thinking.

Another disgusting smile appeared on Baut's face. "So much to learn about your allies, human woman. The Specter's death is what will give me power. I'll rip his still beating heart from his chest and devour it whole. The Specter that Walks shall be no more. Then, I will have my way with the Empress as her army surrenders to me."

"She's a child!" Beverly shouted.

"A child that shall become my slave," Baut laughed. His Chieftains joined in the laughter. "And when I have grown bored with her, grown tired of hearing her pleading cries for mercy or death, then she shall die as well. Sardis will be mine once again. Its people will be my slaves."

"Only if you kill Prazak," Beverly retorted.

With a shove, Baut sent Crusher to her backside. To Dickerson he said, "Keep your human quiet. If she keeps running her mouth I might just kill her now."

Dickerson helped Beverly to her feet. "She's my hostage. I need to her get me back to her starship."

"Again, I do not care about your needs," Baut stated.

"We had a deal!" Dickerson shouted.

"And I am amending that deal," Baut shouted back. With one hand, he pointed the end of the heavy warhammer at Dickerson. "Do you take issue with that, human? If so, I can crush your skull now and be done with your pathetic self."

Dickerson's head shook side to side.

"Wise choice," Baut chuckled. "Be prepared. Our conquest of Sardis is about to begin."

Dickerson backed away, pulling Beverly with him. Through gritted teeth he said, "Tend to my wounds."

"Why should I help you?" Beverly responded.

"Because I'm the only thing keeping Baut and his Chieftains from tearing you apart."

Beverly nodded. She couldn't argue with that logic.

* * *

The world around him continued to move, but Prazak barely acknowledged it. He processed the information his people reported to him, issued out orders in response then dismissed the reports from his mind.

At one point Troi had come to him, rubbing his arm to provide comfort. She'd mumbled apologetic words, condolences, but he did not accept them. Zoja was not dead. Not yet.

His patience was wearing thin, his emotions and mind frayed. And when Belan exited the operating room, her uniform spotted with Zoja's blood, Prazak feared the worse.

Sucking in a deep breath, Prazak held it. He couldn't exhale even if he wanted to. Belan approached him. Gingerly she said, "She should be okay, General."

His breath exploded from his lungs. He braced himself against the doorway. "Are you sure?" he whispered.

Belan nodded. "No vital organs were hit. She lost quite a bit of blood, but the Davnora cats' ability to slow their cardiovascular systems when injured is probably what saved her. That and the soldiers finding her and tending her wounds. She's still weak and I want to keep an eye on her. Ensure she doesn't take an unexpected turn for the worse. I doubt that will happen, but I want to make sure."

"Can I see her?" he asked.

"She's under," Belan stated. "You can see her through the glass, but-"

"Please," Andrej pleaded. "I'll only take a moment."

Belan held his stare, but her features softened. She nodded. "Be quick."

"Thank you." He moved past her. Pushing through the operating room door, he found a couple of Belan's staff finishing their work.

Zoja was still under the influence of the narcotics Belan had administered for the surgery. The cat's chest moved evenly up and down, her breathing steady.

He stared at her for some time, his chest constricted. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe. He reminded himself that Belan was the best at her craft and that Zoja was going to be alright.

Eyes still shut, he heard the door open. He didn't have to look to know it was Troi that had come in. Her hand slid into his, her fingers interlacing with his own.

He'd removed his gloves when he'd come inside and the skin to skin contact was reassuring. He squeezed a little. "Doctor Belan says she should be okay."

Troi hummed. "I heard. That is good news."

"Why would someone do this to her?" he whispered.

She didn't say anything. He didn't expect her to. After a few moments, he opened his eyes. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier. But be mad at me, Deanna. Not Commander Riker. I provoked him."

"I'm not worried about that at the moment," Troi replied softly. "I just wanted to see how Zoja was doing. She's a beautiful and loyal creature."

"She is," Prazak agreed.

Troi released him. The Betazoid woman moved to the operating table, mindful of staying clear of the attending staff. Prazak saw her reach into her coat pocket, withdrawing a tricorder.

He came up to the table. "What are you doing?"

"Her fangs," Deanna motioned to Zoja's teeth with the tricorder, "are stained with what appears to be blood."

"She fought someone? And ended up wounding that person who then stabbed her." Prazak concluded.

"I think so," Troi muttered. When she finished waving the tricorder around Zoja's mouth she looked up to him. "And you know Lieutenant Dickerson and Doctor Crusher are missing."

Prazak nodded. He'd been made aware the moment he'd entered the infirmary with Zoja in his arms.

Troi inclined her head towards Zoja. Closing the tricorder, she slipped it back into her pocket. Reaching out, she rubbed Prazak's arm in the same manner she'd done earlier. "I'll leave you. Give you a private moment with Zoja."

"Thank you," he remarked truthfully. "I'll be right out."

Troi left.

Prazak placed a hand on his companion's head. Breathing a sigh of relief, he pressed his cheek to hers. "I'll find the one responsible for hurting you. You're supposed to be safe here. I'm sorry. I'll find this person and make him pay, Zoja. I promise."

Stepping back, he stood out of the way of the medical personnel. When one moved by, he said, "When Doctor Belan gives the word that Zoja is well enough, please have her moved to my quarters. I want her to be comfortable."

The nurse nodded. "I'll take care of it personally, General. Zoja deserves it."

Composing himself, Prazak gave the woman a kind smile. Before departing, he stole one last look at the cat that he'd raised since he found her as a starving cub.

 _I promise this is going to end. Those responsible will beg for death as they regret ever having crossed us, Zoja._

* * *

Picard wouldn't hold it against Prazak for taking the time to see the wounded cat; he understood how people became attached to animals. Prazak's concern for the large feline was no different than the emotional attachments he'd seen in his personnel that had a pet on board the _Enterprise_.

Yet, while Prazak was concerned for Zoja, Picard was concerned for Doctor Crusher. Upon arriving at the infirmary, he'd quickly learned that both she and her patient, Dickerson, were missing. And while Prazak had concentrated on his animal's recovery, Picard was thankful that the other Sardis personnel, led by General Herschel, stepped up to the situation in an attempt to ascertain what had transpired.

It was in the midst of that commotion that Prazak returned from visiting his recovering feline. Picard, his officers, and a handful of Sardis personnel had adjoined to the conference room off to the side of Belan's small office, staying out of the way of the medical personnel in the main area.

Picard waited patiently as Prazak entered and raised his hands. "Everyone quiet down." When they compiled, Prazak asked, "What is going on? I was told the Starfleet doctor and her patient are missing."

Picard nodded. "They are. Missing for almost two hours it seems."

"Why did no one report this?" Prazak demanded of no one in particular.

That was the exact question Picard was hoping to be answered as well. "I'd like to know that as well. It appears no one realized they were actually missing."

Prazak glanced towards Herschel. Standing slightly in front of and to the General's side was a soldier. Helmet removed, his head hung low. He'd been stripped of his weapons. Herschel gave him a sharp nudge in the back of his shoulder. "Speak, Sergeant Gill."

The soldier raised his head, but averted his eyes. "General…"

"Look at me when you speak, Sergeant," Prazak demanded.

The man gulped, summoning courage to do as Prazak ordered. "I was on guard duty with Corporal Julart. Guarding the Starfleet man. The doctor wanted to take him for a walk. She said it was to stretch his legs."

"And?" Prazak sneered when the man stopped talking.

"Julart didn't want to let them go, but…I…I authorized it. I didn't see any harm in letting him move about a bit," the sergeant answered. "I stayed behind to conduct the guard change in case they weren't back before then."

"What happened?" Prazak frowned.

"That." Herschel pointed to a nearby bed on the opposite side of the window pane divider between the two rooms.

Lying on top of the bed, naked, but covered from the waist down was Corporal Julart. The man's throat was shredded, parts of his upper chest and neck covered in dried blood.

Picard's heart ached. Not only for the deceased soldier, but also for Beverly. If Dickerson killed this man, which is how it seemed, that meant Beverly was in the hands of a desperate madman. They had to find her sooner rather than later.

 _Why didn't I trust my instincts? Why didn't I listen to Counselor Troi? Now whatever Lana tells me will be nothing but confirmation. I was wrong about Dickerson. I knew it, but refused to believe it. Now a man is dead and Beverly is more than likely ensnared in his clutches._

"We found his body hidden in a medical supply room Eight-Alpha," a non-com reported. "He was naked. Stripped of his armor and weapons."

"And his dignity," Prazak spat.

"General, I'm sorry," Picard interrupted quietly. He didn't really know what else to say, except that now they had to focus on finding the pair. "But we need to start looking for Doctor Crusher."

Prazak silenced the Captain with a raised fist. He looked at Herschel.

"I've already alerted the patrols to be on the lookout," Herschel stated. "Including the soldiers assigned to the top of the wall."

"The blade Belan took from Zoja's back more than likely belonged to Corporal Julart," Prazak surmised. He faced Picard. "Your Starfleet man is responsible for these attacks."

"You can't know that," Riker protested.

"Then give me a better explanation, Commander!" Prazak snapped.

"Number One," Picard intervened. This was no time for arguments. They had to work together. "I think the evidence is fairly clear. General Prazak is probably correct. Our focus needs to be in finding and rescuing Doctor Crusher, not arguing what-ifs."

Riker tensed, but backed off.

Troi spoke up just then. "He's right, Will. General Prazak I mean." She held out the tricorder for both Picard and Riker to see. "I did a quick scan of the blood on the cat's fangs. It matches the results Doctor Crusher logged when she examined Lieutenant Dickerson. It's his blood. Zoja attacked and wounded Dickerson."

"Did any of the blood belong to Doctor Crusher?" Picard wheezed a little.

Troi shook her head. "No, Captain. Only Dickerson's blood was on her fangs."

Prazak gripped the hilt of his longsword. "Your Lieutenant killed one of my soldiers. He attacked Zoja, a Davnora cat. Both are crimes punishable by death."

"What about Doctor Crusher?" Troi asked.

"Do you suspect her as an accomplice?" Prazak shot back angrily.

"Of course not!" Picard exclaimed. "Remember, General, she aided your staff. She helped your wounded. Even your Empress recognized her for her acts. She would not be a complicit party in attacks against your people or Zoja."

"Then she is his prisoner," Prazak replied, leveling his tone. "General Herschel, amend the orders for the patrols. Doctor Crusher is a hostage and needs to be handled as such. She is not to be harmed."

Herschel nodded. He waved a hand at a junior officer who moved out expeditiously. Herschel cleared his throat. "And what of Sergeant Gill?"

Prazak returned to the guard. He was clearly distraught. Distraught and scared. "Sergeant, a man under your watch has died. You are aware of the seriousness of what has happened?"

"Yes, General," the sergeant mumbled. "Rais, I mean Corporal Julart, was my friend. I'm ashamed of myself."

"And you are aware of the threat that looms over this city? The threat of the Ti'hi?" Prazak asked next.

"I am, Sir. Everyone is aware and prepared to fight. _I am_ prepared to fight. To die if it means saving this city and paying for my role in Julart's death."

Prazak motioned to a soldier that stood off to the side. "Strip him of his rank."

The man stepped forward. He removed the rank insignia from Gill's armor.

"Now return his weapons," Prazak barked.

The first man stepped back, allowing Herschel to return the weapons.

"Thank you," the disgraced man muttered.

"Do not thank me yet, soldier," Prazak said. "At this point I cannot afford to throw you in the stockade for your dereliction. Report to Captain Horak for your new assignment. Remember Rais, your friend, when you think you have no more fight left in you."

Straightening his back, the soldier saluted. He scurried out the door before Prazak had an opportunity to further punish the man.

Picard stood silent during the short demotion. He had half expected Prazak to punish the man worse than he had.

 _I'm still looking at these men as barbaric. As being like Khan. They are not. Why would Prazak execute one of his own for a mistake? Even if that mistake resulted in a death and kidnapping? That would be counter-productive and inhumane. Why can't I stop seeing these men in that light?_

He sighed. "General?"

Prazak looked over. "Yes?"

"The search teams-" Picard let the comment hang.

Prazak nodded. "I must report to the Empress, however-"

"There is no need for that, General."

Everyone turned to the door. Empress Tarina, flanked by Captain Tristin and another purple clad royal guardsman entered the room. Picard shuffled back, the space getting crowded. From the corner of his eye, he caught Prazak and Herschel bowing their heads.

"Your Highness, you didn't have to come down here," Prazak stated.

"No, but remember, General, this is my city." Tarina stepped to the head the small table. "General Herschel sent word of what has transpired and of the attack against Zoja."

"On your behalf, Andrej," Herschel said. "You needed to focus on Zoja."

Prazak clapped his friend on the shoulder. To Tarina, he said, "From what I can piece together, Zoja attacked the Starfleet man Lieutenant Dickerson. She must have recognized what he was doing, that he was kidnapping Doctor Crusher and attempted to stop him. He stabbed her and managed to escape. I can only conclude that Zoja didn't gain the upper hand because of Crusher's presence in the fray. She would not have wanted to injure the woman."

Picard agreed. Prazak's statement was logical. It made sense. He knew animals allegedly possessed something akin to a sixth sense. If Zoja sensed Dickerson's intentions, and Crusher's position as a captive, the cat probably did try to save her. When this was all over, he'd have to thank Prazak for Zoja's intervention.

"Your Highness," Picard puffed out his chest, "I would like to integrate myself and my remaining officers into the search for Doctor Crusher."

"And me," Guinan whispered into his ear, causing Picard to smile a little.

Tarina inclined her head. "General Prazak?"

"I was going to suggest the same to the Captain," Prazak stated, much to Picard's surprise. "Our forces are thin, even with the nobility, and I cannot afford to assign large numbers of personnel to the search. So any additional bodies are welcome."

"I may be able to give up a few guardsmen," Tristin suggested.

Prazak shook his head. "No. Your focus needs to be on protecting the Empress and the tower. If the Ti'hi attack, the tower will surely be one of their main targets."

Picard felt a weight pushing down on his shoulders. He'd have appreciated the additional help of the royal guard, but he was in no position to dictate to Prazak or the Empress on how they utilized their forces. But he could bring more of his own people if it came to that.

"Agreed, General." Tarina waved a hand to Tristin, who bowed and remained silent. "I am going to check on Zoja. I'll leave you to your battle planning, gentlemen. Ladies."

"Then we should get to it," Picard said after Tarina and her guards left the room. "The longer we wait, the more danger Beverly is in."

"I'm ready for this to end as well. Now, follow me." Prazak waved at the group.

Picard inclined his head at his staff, including Guinan. The Prime Directive had gone out the window long ago. Now all he cared about was saving Beverly. He'd figure out how to fake Prazak's death if the augment managed to survive.

Picard hoped Prazak survived. Without the augment and his two companions, Picard feared for the future of Empress Tarina and the people of Sardis.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

* * *

"Eat this."

Crusher glanced towards his voice. Dickerson held a bowl out to her with one hand. Her scowl deepened at his alleged peace offering.

Taking a seat next to her, Dickerson was insistent. "You'll need your strength. Baut is planning on moving soon. Take it. It's not poisoned."

Dickerson had rebound her hands after he'd forced her to tend to his wounds; reluctantly, Crusher took the bowl as best she could. "Why should I trust you in regards to anything?"

Scratching his cheek, Dickerson shrugged. "We only have each other right now."

"Need I remind you that you kidnapped me?" Raising the bowl to her nostrils, Beverly sniffed the soupy contents. Whatever it was, it didn't smell half bad. Her stomach grumbled, agreeing with her mind's assessment. Cautiously, she swirled the bowl about, mixing the contents around. She raised it to her lips. It didn't taste half bad either. And he was right, she did need her strength. If even the slightly opportunity of escape presented itself, she'd have to be ready to take it.

"Like I said," Dickerson shrugged, "that wasn't part of the plan. But I knew I needed your help."

Not much of an apology. "My help? So to obtain my help you abduct me and kill an innocent man in the process? Not to mention that magnificent cat."

"None of those people are innocent," he sneered. Pulling her confiscated tricorder from an inside fold of his coat, Dickerson started taping away on the device. "Starfleet technology has clearly advanced," he hummed. "But the basic controls appear to be the same."

Beverly swallowed another mouthful of the soup. Watching Dickerson's actions, she decided she needed to find out more about this supposed mission he claimed to be on. "So, why are you here, Lieutenant?"

Dickerson's eyes drifted to hers. "I was sent here to retrieve the extract and the augments."

She had to bite back a laugh. "You're supposed to retrieve three genetically enhanced men?"

Dickerson scoffed, but didn't respond.

"How did Starfleet know about this place? About the extract?" she asked evenly.

"Do you honestly believe that a place like this, inhabited by living relics of the eugenics wars, would not be known to Starfleet?" he smiled. "Please, doctor, you should really expand your knowledge beyond the walls of your sickbay."

Beverly let the insult pass. "If that's true, then why has Starfleet not done anything about these men? Why the secrecy? I mean, if they are really so threatening as you claim."

Dickerson exhaled. He appeared annoyed. "When we learned about all that Prazak and his men have done here it was decided that these are men that are too dangerous to allow to continue to live freely. And besides that, do you think we want everyone to know that we've discovered the key to extended life and telepathy?"

"You didn't _discover_ anything," Crusher rebutted. "You somehow learned about it and came here to steal it. And clearly, by your own admission, it doesn't work on normal humans. Not like it works on genetically enhanced humans."

Dickerson shook his head. "You don't know that. That's why I need Prazak's blood. These scans," he waved the tricorder, "aren't enough. I need an actual sample."

"It won't work, Lieutenant," Beverly stated as confidently as she could sound.

"You don't know that!" he spat.

Flinching, she set the bowl aside. She hadn't even realized she'd finished it. "So, you aligned yourself with these creatures? Why?"

Dickerson's shoulders sagged, his posture relaxing slightly. "Somewhat common goals. They want Sardis for themselves. I had hoped Captain Picard would have heeded my warnings and killed Prazak already. It could have prevented the war to come."

"First, we are not executioners, Lieutenant," Beverly shot back with abhorrence. "Second, all it would have done was clear the way for Baut and his ilk to take the city. It would have caused more bloodshed. No. All you wanted was an easy path. Even if this extract and your isolation here are responsible for your delusions and mental instability, you're still the worst kind of person, Lieutenant."

Dickerson sneered. "And just what is that supposed to mean, doctor?"

"You're playing enemies against each other for your own personal goals. You couldn't care less about Baut's desires any more than you care about Prazak's motivations. All you want is your damn extract to work!"

Dickerson shot to his feet. "It is my duty!"

"Nowhere in Starfleet's or the Federation's missions are murder and systematic slaughter of innocents acceptable. You're duty is to protect life, not destroy it!"

"How dare you!" he shouted.

"What is all this about?"

Crusher pulled her eyes away from the deranged man to look at the newcomer. Baut had stalked over, probably drawn by the increasingly heated discussion.

The Ti'hi leader wore his usual snarl. His large fingers curled and uncurled into fists. Crusher was somewhat surprised to see the creature had donned armor, unlike the last time she'd seen him in battle during the ambush. His giant warhammer was strapped across his back and he had an assortment of bladed weapons stashed about his belt. She even spied the hilt of a dagger jutting from one boot.

Baut's eyes darted between her and Dickerson. "I asked a question, humans. Answer me!"

"Nothing, Baut," Dickerson stammered. "We just got a bit carried away in our discussion, that's all."

Baut's nostrils flared as his eyes continued to sweep between the two. Beverly had remained seated, but when Baut took a step towards her, she shirked away. Yet, Baut was fast for his size and his hand snagged her elbow, jerking her to her feet.

It took all her strength and resilience to not gag when Baut pulled her against his body, stroking her fiery locks with a clawed finger. "Maybe I'll keep you alive when I take the throne. You would do well in my harem. Perhaps you'd even keep the Empress and her noblewomen in line."

"That will never happen," she croaked defiantly.

She expected anger in return for her statement, yet Baut threw his head back and laughed. "Yes. I shall definitely keep you. I'll enjoy it even more when you struggle."

"She's mine, Baut," Dickerson said. "Remember, we had a deal."

Baut snorted, making a show of pressing his face against Beverly's head and inhaling. When he'd finished, Beverly felt like she'd just died a little more on the inside. "If you survive the upcoming battle, human," he said to Dickerson, "I may let you have her. But," he held her tighter against his body by wrapping an arm around her waist, "not until after I've had my fun."

Dickerson started to protest. "Baut-"

In a flash, Baut pulled a blade from his belt and jutted it towards Dickerson. "Silence!" Snorting, he shoved Beverly away. She stumbled on the uneven ground, but Dickerson grabbed her, preventing her from slipping. "Keep her for now, but remember when this is all over, I shall have her first."

Beverly breathed a sigh of relief. Her situation had appeared to be taking a turn for the worse. She knew she was far from safe in the hands of Dickerson, but at the moment, she'd take him over Baut any day.

Snarling, Baut spat on the ground. "Go to the pens and ready my mount. We are moving. Our insider has sent a report that they are looking for you and this woman and have discovered your escape route. We have to move sooner than planned."

Crusher assimilated the information Baut shared. She knew Jean-Luc and the others wouldn't let her down. They had to have pieced together what had transpired and were currently searching for her. Perhaps Dickerson's foolishness in running away would disrupt Baut's plans, leading to a hasty mistake on the Ti'hi's part.

But she also keyed in on the word 'insider'. _So it wasn't Dickerson who was the inside threat. If not him, then who was it? Was Dickerson meant to meet up with someone within the city? And did his mental degradation, combined with his slight cowardice, spoil the Ti'hi's attack?_

She could only hope the answer was yes.

Her thoughts returned to the present when Dickerson huffed, turned, and sauntered away, guiding her along with him. "Come, before he changes his mind," Dickerson whispered.

Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she caught the Chieftain watching their departure. Baut smiled then ran his thick tongue over his jutting mandible and fangs in a disgustingly gruesome manner. His intentions were clear to Crusher.

Her internal thoughts were all she had to hang on to at the moment. _Against everything I believe, everything I stand for as a doctor and an officer. And everything I just said to Dickerson...but I truly hope General Prazak kills you, Baut. You deserve nothing less._

* * *

"We already sent a team into the old drainage system near the spot Zoja was found," General Herschel reported. "So far, they haven't found anything."

Picard's frown deepened. He, along with his three remaining senior staff and Guinan, were gathered with General Prazak in Sardis' command center. The room was abuzz with activity, with soldiers and officers working tirelessly on a number of different tasks in preparation for the potential Ti'hi invasion.

Prazak's face was grim. He gestured at a random officer. "Get me the blueprints on the underground aqueduct systems."

The Sardis soldier manipulated the keyboard at his workstation. A moment later a display appeared on one of the overhead screens; a detailed network of canals and waterworks skirted the edges of the diagram of the underground military complex on the screen.

Even in his frazzled state, Picard was impressed. But Prazak's grumblings gave the Captain pause. "What is it?" he asked.

Prazak kept his attention on the officer. "Not just these. I want to see the abandoned ones as well."

The officer pivoted in his chair. "Sir, those blueprints aren't in the database."

"I know that," Prazak responded.

Confused, the officer looked between Prazak and Herschel, clearly unsure how to respond. "Sir?"

"Go to the archives and pull the actual blueprints, Captain!" Prazak barked.

The man vaulted from his seat. "Yes, General." He hurried out of the command center without a look back.

"That's going to take some time, Andrej," Herschel stated.

"Time we don't have," Picard added.

Scratching his chin, Prazak sighed. "I know. It's been ages since those systems were used. And the woman that designed them was one of us, but she has long since passed away. But if the Ti'hi are using them..."

"They could use them to gain access into the city," Riker concluded.

Picard glanced at his First Officer. "Right, Will."

"We don't have enough people to search and guard them all," Herschel said as he rounded the table. "Especially with having to man the wall as well as fortifying the city and the Empress' Tower."

"We have to try. We can't leave Doctor Crusher in the hands of that madman and the Ti'hi," Counselor Troi offered.

Prazak shook his head. Looking at Picard, he stated, "I'm sorry, Captain, I just do not have the manpower. The best course of action I can take is to seal off as many of those systems as possible. I have to think of the people of this city."

Picard knew Prazak was just doing the job he'd been entrusted with performing. And he could see the torment on the augment's face at having to make such a decision. And in a way, Jean-Luc understood Prazak's position, but he couldn't support it, not with Beverly out there. "How long do we have?"

"It's hard to say," Prazak answered truthfully. "They could attack at any time."

"The Ti'hi are prone to acting hastily, unpredictably," Herschel remarked while leaning on the table. "Dickerson's actions could have caused them to alter their plans. Or not. What your Lieutenant did could be part of their strategy. We just don't know. There's a reason we haven't been able to fully defeat them after all these years of fighting. Their tactics are uncoordinated. Each tribe acts and reacts differently."

"But if this Chieftain has aligned the tribes," Prazak added. "They'd be following his battle plans. But not ever having seen him before, we just can't tell. All we do know, based on the ambush, is that he's able to organize formations and maneuvers. He's also vicious."

"All the more reason to hunt him down and rescue Doctor Crusher," Worf declared. "Take the fight to him. Do not wait for him to come to us."

Picard ignored the way Worf spoke, as if they were part of Prazak's military. It was the least of his worries at the moment. "General, give us some time before you seal off the aqueducts. At least give us a chance to look."

"You cannot go out there alone," Prazak remarked.

"I'll take them," Marking stated. The Colonel had been standing by silently. So silently that Picard had almost forgotten he was there. "Smaller teams are better. No more than three per team total. We can cover more ground that way. Lieutenant Worf can come with me."

Picard saw Worf straighten, giving the Colonel a curt nod. In the short time on Sardis, Worf and Marking appeared to have become something akin to friends.

Prazak nodded. "Fine. Wilhelm?"

Picard caught the German's smirk. "As if I'd let John have all the fun. Give me Riker and Counselor Troi."

Picard felt a smile spreading across his face. A short time ago, these men were considered the enemy and Picard was ready to put them all in the _Enterprise_ 's brig. Now, once again, they were teaming up to accomplish a common goal.

 _Stranger things have happened in this galaxy._

Prazak turned. "Looks like it's you and me, Captain Picard."

Guinan cleared her throat loudly. "Forgetting someone, Andrej?"

"Guinan, I can't-" Picard started.

Guinan shook her head, showing off that soft, but determined smile once again. "Remember, Captain, I'm not one of your officers."

"I'm still responsible for you, Guinan," Picard countered.

"I'll be fine," Guinan reassured. She kept her eyes locked on his, but jerked her head slightly at Prazak. "Besides, I know this guy better than you, Captain. I told you already, we worked well together in the past."

Picard heard the three augments chuckle. With a sigh, he gave in. "Alright."

Prazak addressed the group. "Split up. We already have a team in the system Dickerson used. Based on the recovered map from the Ti'hi cavern we know at least a few points they were interested in. John, take the northern most system. Wilhelm, you start near the docks," when the men nodded, he continued, "We'll take the system beneath the wall. Once Captain Sanlo returns with the blueprints, the operations officer can direct us as needed over comms through the older systems."

"Keep your combadges clear as well," Picard instructed. "If you find Doctor Crusher and can retrieve her safely then do so. If not, report back, but do not let her out of your sight."

With orders issued and nods of confirmation received, the two teams departed.

"You'll need a weapon." Prazak snapped his fingers at one of his soldiers. A few moments later the man returned and handed a short sword each to both Picard and Guinan.

"I know you didn't fight during the ambush, Captain," Prazak stated. "But I assume you know how to use that. Guinan, I already know you do."

Guinan guffawed.

"I'm quite skilled at fencing," Picard bragged while examining the sword, feeling out its balance and counter balance.

He looked up when he heard Prazak snort a cough. "Fencing? You really do have a death wish against me, don't you, Captain?"

Picard grinned when Prazak smiled at his little jab.

Guinan stepped up in Jean-Luc's defense. "He's good, Andrej. Quite good actually."

"Then I say-" Prazak spoke, but was cut off by Picard's communicator chiming.

Picard tapped the badge. "Picard."

It was Data's voice that bled through the device. "Captain, no success as of yet in locating Doctor Crusher's tricorder. It appears the mountains, in conjunction with the atmosphere, are interfering with the _Enterprise_ 's ability to obtain a lock on the device."

Picard knew it had been a long shot. "Understood, Mister Data. Keep trying."

"Aye, Captain. Mister La Forge and I are continuing our attempts to reconstruct the data files Lieutenant Worf sent to the Enterprise's databanks. The files are encrypted with at least four layers of personal security protocols."

Hoping for some good news, Picard asked, "Anything else, Mister Data?"

"There is a private transmission for you, Sir. The caller insisted on being put in touch with you while she waited."

 _She. Lana._

Picard looked at Prazak. The General seemed to get the meaning of his questioning gaze. "Follow me."

"Standby, Mister Data," Picard ordered.

"Aye, Sir."

Prazak led them out of the operations center to an office located a short ways down the corridor. Picard had not been in the room before, but from the looks of the utilitarian style of furniture, desk, and equipment, it was Prazak's workspace.

In addition to the desk, conference table and chairs, and long couch along one wall, a fireplace that was currently unlit was centered on the wall opposite the couch. Military decor adorned the wall space. Tucked into the corners behind Prazak's desk were two sets of elegant armor. One set Picard recognized as the one Prazak had worn to the dinner. Its elegant, highly polished artwork was clearly meant to impress. Ceremonial in nature, the armor was unblemished and had obviously never been worn in combat.

The other was the polar opposite. It had a sinister aura about it. The chest piece was all black. It bore only one symbol: a strange glyph in a dark reddish tint was imprinted on the right chest quadrant. While he had no idea what the glyph represented, just looking at it made Picard's heart skip a beat.

In addition to the chest piece was a helm which was more intricate in its design, but just as frightening.

The front of the helm was depicted as a human skull, minus the lower jaw which was solid black. The skull face was bone white; it stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the blackened helm. Each side had circular horns, similar to a ram's, but upside down. Small holes in the center of the horns' spiral provided the wearer with the ability to hear. Strange blood red glyphs and designs were etched into the entire piece, including the white skull portion wrapping around the back. And with the way the artificial lighting reflected off it, Picard could see that the helm was actually scarred. A number of small dents and gouges riddled the otherwise shiny exterior and along one side of the face, he spotted a gash. Picard shuddered at the idea that a hit like that would have killed Prazak if he had not been wearing the piece when it the blow was struck.

Picard had yet to see Prazak, or the other two augments, wear a helm in combat. And even if he had, this one was far different than the ones the regular soldiers wore. He couldn't help but wonder why, especially when one took into account the battle damage it bore.

He forced himself to tear his eyes away from the death's head; shivering as he did.

If Prazak had picked up on Picard's reaction to the armor, he made no indication. He just picked up a padd from his desk and handed it to Jean-Luc. "Your officer can send the transmission to this."

Picard thanked him. The padd was of a different, and much older, design than the ones Starfleet used, but Picard knew it was somehow compatible. Prazak nodded and went to leave.

Before he could stop himself, words poured from Picard's lips. "You should stay, General. I imagine the information I'm about to receive involves you."

Prazak's eyes narrowed. He glanced at Guinan who shrugged. When he looked back at Picard, he asked, "You offer me the chance to listen to your private communiqué?"

Picard waved with the padd. "At this point, General, I have to admit, I'm on your side. And this person that is waiting for me to respond...she's not the one that ordered me to arrest you. I trust her."

A smile appeared on the General's face for the briefest of moments. "Thank you for trusting me as well, Captain."

Picard activated his combadge. "Picard to _Enterpr_ ise. Sending you the frequency for transmission now. Once connected, drop off, Mister Data."

A moment later, Data replied, "Received, Captain. Connecting and dropping off now."

Within seconds, Lana DeVoy's face appeared on the padd. Picard took a seat at a random spot at the conference table.

To Picard, DeVoy appeared tired. No. Not tired; concerned. Even worried. Picard didn't like it at all. "Lana," he greeted.

"Jean-Luc," the woman paused, "where are you?"

The backdrop behind him was foreign to her. "I'm on the planet. Things have gotten far worse here, I'm afraid. Doctor Crusher has been kidnapped."

"Jean-Luc, I'm sorry," DeVoy's lips curled downward, her features going soft. "Do you know who did it?"

"We believe it was Dickerson," Picard stated. "Please tell me you were able to learn something about him."

Her frowned deepened. "If that man is responsible for taking Beverly I'm afraid my information will only cause you more consternation."

"Lana, please," Picard pushed gently, but urgently.

DeVoy nodded. "For starters, Matthew Dickerson is his real name. And he was a Lieutenant, but he was more than a pilot. He was a member of Starfleet Intelligence."

"Was?" he asked, picking up on her use of the past tense.

"Officially the man is dead."

"Why does that not surprise me," Picard hummed. "Unofficially?"

"That's where things get muddy," DeVoy stated. "Dickerson's last official assignment was a joint mission. A deep cover operation in conjunction with the Klingon Empire. From what I gathered he along with two other operatives, were sent to Selay to uncover and prevent an assassination plot. If the plot had been successful it could have thrown the alliance between the Federation, the Klingon Empire, and a number of other planets into chaos."

"What happened?" Picard pressed.

"According to Dickerson's official report the mission was compromised. He and his fellow operatives were captured. The other two were tortured and killed. He said he barely escaped. He was broken after that, his mind and his nerves frayed. The problem, from what I can gather, is that his report was filled with inconsistencies."

"So he lied?"

DeVoy shrugged a little. "Possibly. Or he really did suffer during captivity and his mind was damaged."

From the other side of the table, Prazak grunted. Picard's eyes shifted to the General, catching the man huff as he propped his fist against his cheek.

"Are we not alone, Jean-Luc?" DeVoy wanted to know.

"Lana, things are complicated here." Picard smiled wearily. "But you are correct. We are not alone. Guinan, you remember her? She is present as well as my host."

"Let me guess, one of the augments," DeVoy stated matter-of-factly.

Picard failed at hiding his shock. He hadn't mentioned Prazak or the others to her during their first conversation. He sensed, more than saw, Prazak's tightened response at hearing DeVoy's words. Thankfully for Jean-Luc, Guinan offered a few soothing words to her long forgotten ally and Prazak relaxed.

"How do you know about that, Lana?" Picard asked.

"I wouldn't be good at my job if I didn't," Lana quipped. "But I'll come to that shortly. Getting back to Dickerson. Like I said, his report was filled with inconsistencies, but there was no evidence to disprove his official statement. However, Starfleet Intelligence decided it was best that he undergo a full psychiatric evaluation after the mission. He was sent to Starbase 189 for the eval. It was there, during that evaluation, that his family's mental history was discovered. Somehow he'd managed to conceal his past during his time at the Academy and when he was recruited into Starfleet Intelligence."

"What did the evaluation uncover?"

"His family history was plagued with cases of mental health issues. His father was diagnosed with schizophrenia. The doctors concluded that Dickerson was possibly suffering from the same disease. Starfleet Intelligence cut him loose after that. It brought the entire operation and Dickerson's statements under extreme scrutiny. Some higher-ups believed the disease surfaced during the assignment and Dickerson himself killed his comrades then fabricated the entire story to cover up his crimes. But again, without proof, they couldn't do any more than discharge him from Starfleet and send him back to Earth for care."

"And did he ever make it to Earth?" Picard assumed the answer would be no.

Lana frowned again. "No, he didn't. Like I said, officially the man died, his spine crushed and his neck broken during an accident in a cargo hold on Starbase 189 prior to his departure."

"So how is it that he's alive and here on his planet?" Picard asked aloud.

"That brings me to the unofficial part. That part involving your augment friends."

"Go on, Lana," Picard breathed. He was getting wrapped up in the story; as horrible as it was.

"At the same time as Dickerson's accident, Admiral Yamoto, then a Commander, was also at Starbase 189. He and another man. The other man I've only been able to learn was part of the covert operations division of Starfleet Intelligence and a Captain at the time. I haven't uncovered a name. Prior to arriving at the starbase, Yamoto and this other man attended a conference on Coridan. A conference that included some Ferengi delegates."

Picard's face scrunched a little, confused. "Ferengi?" Then he remembered. He glanced at Prazak again. The man's face was like stone. Prazak had mentioned that his sleeper ship had been found by a race of aliens that played Tongo. Picard had even concluded that it must have been a Ferengi merchant ship.

To Prazak he asked, "The ones that brought you here. The Ferengi. Have they ever returned?"

Prazak appeared to think about it before he shook his head non-committedly. "Not that I know. However, like I told your officers, we and the Ti'hi are not the only inhabitants of this planet. I have heard rumors that the Hurons, while not space farers, have been in contact with off-world traders. That is how they keep their steel and other supplies abundant. There is also the Corq that live in the south. They travel to our docks by ship and we trade with them as well. It is possible either of them could have been in contact with these aliens."

It made sense. The puzzle was starting to come together to form a larger picture for Picard. "So if the Ferengi returned and somehow learned about Prazak and his people still being alive they may have gotten curious."

"The Ferengi will sell just about anything to make a profit, you know that, Jean-Luc," DeVoy added. "Even information."

Picard spoke his thoughts for all to here. "So the Ferengi probably knew from old logs or stories about the merchant ship that first came here with Prazak and his people. Over the years they set up trade with either the Hurons or the Corq, or both. During that time, they heard stories about the previous ship and the people that came here on it. That those people were still alive and unaged. They put two and two together. They must have learned about the bark extract at the same time. Later, whoever had the information sold it to Yamoto and his mysterious friend. Wanting to keep such a discovery a secret, they found a broken and desperate man in the form of Lieutenant Matthew Dickerson. They recruited him, under the guise of an official Starfleet Intelligence mission, and sent him here. If he succeeded it was a win. If he failed, no harm would come to Yamoto and his accomplice as it wasn't a sanctioned mission."

"Dickerson was their fall guy," Guinan offered. "Yet how do the Klingons come into play here?"

Lana shook her head. "That I don't know. Perhaps Yamoto and his partner had been with a Klingon when they obtained this information from the Ferengi. If so, it would make sense that the Klingons would want the extract as well. Maybe they sent an operative with Dickerson to ensure they didn't lose out to the Federation. But that's just speculation."

"Dickerson did state that he was not alone when he arrived here." Picard look towards Prazak again. "He claimed you killed the others."

Prazak rolled his eyes. "I didn't even know your man was here until we found him with you."

"I believe you, General. I'm just relaying what I was told," Picard offered apologetically.

"Either way, unbeknownst to any of them," Prazak drummed his fingers on the table, "your Dickerson and his supposed comrades encountered the Ti'hi first. Somehow they managed to convince the Ti'hi not to kill them. Or they did kill the others and Dickerson survived. He must have dominated them somehow. At least until this new Chieftain appeared."

Picard looked back at the padd. "Anything else, Lana?"

"Just be careful, Jean-Luc. You've stumbled upon something devious on that planet. Devious and extremely dangerous. Get Beverly back safely and get out of there. I know Yamoto and his nameless partner have ordered you to detain those men. Don't do it, Jean-Luc. Find another way out."

"I'm working on all of that, Lana." Picard managed another smile. "Thank you for all of this. I know it must have taken a lot and could have very well put you on Yamoto's radar."

"I can handle them. Don't worry about that," she answered with a smile of her own. "Just let me know once this is all over. Please."

"I will, Lana," Picard promised. "I will."

He ended the transmission, setting the padd on the table. Exhaling he looked at Prazak and Guinan. "Can things get any worse? If this information is even half true, it implicates at least one high ranking officer of Starfleet Command. Implicates him in espionage, theft, kidnapping, and murder. I imagine he was able to have Starfleet Directive 715-2 assigned to him after losing contact with his operatives. That way, if anyone did discover this planet he'd be the first to know."

"We have to tread carefully, Captain," Guinan said. "Admiral Yamoto will deny any accusations you make against him. You need to have proof."

"The proof is Dickerson. If we can capture him alive." Picard rested his gaze on Prazak.

"None of this matters now," Prazak growled. "What matters is stopping the Ti'hi and saving your doctor from this unstable man that was sent here on a fool's errand."

Picard agreed. He felt a wave of apprehension that Prazak didn't pick up on his hint of needing Dickerson alive. Or Prazak did pick up on it and chose to ignore it. He figured it was probably the latter. Prazak's overall concern was protecting his city and his people, not ensuring one particular man survived. A man that was responsible for the murder of one of Prazak's men as well was the attempted slaying of the cat, Zoja.

 _No. I can't rely on Prazak to stay his sword. Which means, I need to get to Dickerson first._

* * *

Even on the worn stones, Worf's footing was perfect. He'd entered the drainage system with Colonel Marking after the augment had ordered two scouts to stand guard at the entrance grate.

"If anybody comes out of this system other than us kill them," the augment had stated without remorse.

And the soldiers had nodded with equally stony expressions. Worf's respect for the fighting men and women that served Sardis continued to grow. They definitely possessed the warrior's mentality. It made him regret his earlier impressions of the men back from when they'd arrived at the city, even though at the time he'd been correct in his assessment; they had been hiding their identities. At least now, Worf understood why.

Marking led the way through the damp and chilly tunnel. He only used a small flashlight to guide them. They'd been traveling through the winding passageways for hours now and so far had discovered nothing.

In a low voice, Worf asked, "Why are you a Colonel and your comrades Generals?"

Marking's response was to huff a laugh. Pausing, he lowered the flashlight as he turned to face Worf. "I prefer to remain at this rank. It puts me in charge of all the scouting forces and gives me the opportunity to go out on missions more often. Andrej and Wilhelm deal with the politics. I hate politics."

Worf grinned. "As do I. But can you not still lead as a General?"

Marking shrugged. "Honestly, the rank is just a title. The three of us are equals in each other's eyes. Always have been, even back on Earth. And it's not like I really need any extra payments for what I do. I have enough money. I just prefer to soldier."

"Spoken like a true warrior!" Worf exclaimed. "I respect such a mindset."

Marking nodded. "It was Prazak that avenged the Warrior Ruler and saved The Kindly One's life. That is why he carries the Emperor's sword. But with the sword came the politics and the higher level strategic planning. He's good at it. But he's still an excellent warrior," Marking smiled, "as you already know."

"Yes," Worf grumbled, rolling his back, remembering the blow that Prazak had landed there. In combat, it would have been a killing blow for sure.

"He's also the strongest of the three of us when it comes to telepathy. Another reason he is tied up the royal family so often. And the nobility." Marking snorted a laugh. "Until you all decided to show up and throw everything for a loop, Andrej didn't mind his required mingling with the nobles all that much. Sure, deep down he did hate it, but at least he was rewarded for all the time he spent in the Empress' Great Hall. He and the Lady Sa had been quite exclusive for some time. Your Counselor changed all that."

Worf shook his head. "He would not be the first soldier to have his choice of mates. However, I have seen the affects Counselor Troi has on men, most notably of course is Commander Riker. Prazak's mistake was thinking she would stay with him."

"Or he realized she never would and just lives for the moment," Marking countered. "But let's admit it, Worf, we've all been there when it comes to a beautiful woman."

Worf couldn't argue with that. "Yes-"

A noise, like shifting rocks, echoed off the walls. As quickly as they'd begun speaking, the two men snapped their mouths shut at the noise. They hadn't been talking at high volumes, but they still could have been heard. Marking clicked off the small light.

The sound had come from around a bend up ahead. Worf's eyes readjusted to the darkness and he could just make out the changes in the blackness about thirty meters ahead and to the right, the direction the tunnel turned.

Marking caught Worf's eyes. Wordlessly, he signaled with his hand for Worf to stay pressed against the far wall while they advanced.

Opposite each other, the pair slid forward. The tunnel was fairly wide, but Worf saw that Marking had sheathed his sword, choosing a smaller weapon in the form of a shortened dagger with a curved blade instead. Worf knew that such a weapon was ideal for sneak attacks, hooking an unsuspecting target's throat and making quick and silent work of the kill. Worf just knew, that Marking, as the head scout, with years of experience, was expertly skilled in such a deadly and silent tactic.

Another noise filtered around the bend as the pair continued to advance. This time more shuffling of rocks followed by a muffled, incoherent curse. Worf tightened his grip on his own short sword; there was definitely someone around the bend.

When they were mere feet away from the corner, Marking shifted and disappeared into the shadows of the tunnel. He was on the far side and would be the first discovered if whoever was on the other side turned the bend. Worf took a few steps back, but kept himself within the ideal striking range of his weapon.

Worf continued to breathe. He, just like his companion, was no stranger to these types of situations and he knew a key element of being effective in hand to hand combat scenarios was allowing oneself to breathe evenly.

The sounds grew closer. This time it was the sounds of light footfalls upon the stone; almost as if the person was jogging quickly. Worf prepared himself.

Even in the thin darkness, Worf saw the figure emerge. The dark form was smaller than Worf had expected. Concealed in a cloak, the figure stepped right by Marking's hiding spot without even a glance in that direction.

 _Inexperience,_ Worf thought.

Worf moved, cutting off the figure, leveling his sword directly in line with the figure's hooded head.

The unknown being skidded to a halt, obviously caught unaware. A moment later, Marking emerged from his hiding spot. With a swiftness, he reached down and grabbed the figure's shoulder with his free hand; his blade moved to encircle the throat.

"No, please!"

Worf blinked. A child's voice.

Marking halted at the words. But only for a moment. He didn't finish his killing strike, but instead twisted the figure in his grasp and gently pushed it against the wall.

The hood fell back to reveal two large, frightened eyes.

"A child," Word breathed.

The child, a boy, was of Sardis blood. He also looked vaguely familiar to Worf, but having spent quite a bit of time amongst the populace, he couldn't immediately place where he had seen the boy before.

But Marking recognized him. "Tega?"

The boy's head bopped up in down rapidly.

Marking pulled his hand back from the boy's shoulder. "Little Tega? What in the world are you doing here? Down here in the tunnels? Why are you not home in La'trec? I almost killed you!"

Tega gulped. "I'm sorry, Colonel. But I had to come when I heard."

Worf glanced at the Colonel then at the boy. "What are you speaking about, boy?"

Tega gulped even harder this time. He looked at Marking. "A Klingon?"

"He's the same one that came to the village, Tega," Marking stated. "He is my friend. Now tell me what you are doing here. Speak quickly, we don't have a lot of time."

Marking's proclamation hadn't passed by Worf. His friend? Worf found his chest swelling a little. Marking hadn't said it to placate the boy, Worf could tell that much. And he'd yet to hear any of the augments say anything they didn't mean. And surprisingly, Worf found that he felt the same way about the American augment.

Lowering his sword, Worf moved closer to the pair.

Tega was frightened, probably still rattled from being caught, but he jutted his chin out and straightened his back when he addressed the Colonel. "You said I'd make a fine scout, Sir."

"I did." Marking nodded. To Worf he said, "Tega found your shuttlecraft during the storm. If not for him we probably never would have discovered you were here."

Tega's expression filled with pride. "Well, I wanted to help again. I knew I had to help. When word reached La'trec that soldiers were needed I came to the city."

"La'trec is still recovering," Marking shook his head, "we only asked for a very small number of soldiers from there."

"I know," Tega stated. "I left a note for my father and sister then snuck onto the back of the one transport that left. I hid under a tarp the entire journey. But when I got here, I didn't know what to do or where to go. The city is just so big! I found some local kids and they told me about what happened to General Prazak's cat, Zoja. That she had been killed near a tunnel."

"She's not dead, child," Marking assured softly.

Worf saw the boy exhale his relief. People really did love that animal around here.

"So how did you end up down here?" Worf prodded.

"I saw the soldiers enter the other drainage system. So I started searching for another. I found this one and started looking."

"Do you even know what we are looking for?" Marking asked.

"Ti'hi I assumed." Tega shrugged.

Marking glanced at Worf. "Well, he's not entirely wrong."

Worf smirked. "We should get him out of here."

"No!" Tega protested.

"This isn't a debate, Tega," Marking responded.

"No, Colonel, wait," Tega stammered quickly. "You said I'd make a good scout. And I have. I found something."

Worf sucked in a breath at the boy's words. "Doctor Crusher?"

"Who?" the boy's face scrunched a little.

"What did you find?" Marking interrupted.

"I'll show you, Colonel." Tega pushed away from the wall before Marking or Worf could stop him and headed back in the direction he'd appeared from. Pausing, he waved for the men to follow. "This way, Sirs."

Worf exchanged a look with Marking. The augment shrugged. "What I get for telling a child he'd make a good scout."

"If he helps us find Doctor Crusher, you should promote him," Worf snickered.

Marking smirked. "I'll submit your recommendation."

* * *

Riker's legs were on fire. They'd been searching for hours, but had yet to find any evidence of Doctor Crusher, her captor, or the Ti'hi. And while Herschel continued pressing on, Will could tell that the search was wearing on Deanna as well.

"You need a break?" he came up next to her and asked.

"We shouldn't stop. We need to keep looking. We don't have a lot of time," Deanna whispered, but her words came in deep gasps.

"A few minutes won't hurt," Will suggested.

Herschel had stopped as well. He looked between the two officers. "We can rest. Sometimes I forget my abilities."

Riker gave the man a nod. There wasn't anywhere to sit, other than the ground, so that's where they sat. Leaning his head against the wall, Riker saddled up next to Deanna, draping an arm across her shoulder and pulling her close for added warmth.

He was happy that she didn't resist him. "Just a few minutes," he said.

Herschel took a seat across from them, laying his sword across his legs and closing his eyes.

"I don't think we are getting any closer, Will," Deanna said. "I can't sense anything beyond us."

"Agreed," Herschel mumbled.

Riker glanced at the man. Herschel's head was leaning back against the wall.

"Any suggestions?" Will asked.

"We keep going or we head back," Herschel responded. "If we don't discover anything soon, we'll have to head back regardless. We need to seal these tunnels."

"You really think they'll use the tunnel systems?" Deanna asked.

Herschel opened his eyes. "Possibly. I fear their forces are larger than we've seen before. I mean, they could try a frontal assault, but I don't know how they would breach the wall."

"I hate that Doctor Crusher is amongst these creatures," Deanna sighed.

"You know, I don't think they will kill her," Herschel offered. When Riker looked to the augment, the man continued. "Why take her just to kill her? It doesn't make sense. What makes more sense is that they'll use her as a hostage in order to force us to surrender."

"They think that would work?" Riker asked, a bit astonished.

"The difference between us and them, Commander," Herschel ran a finger along his blade, "is that we do not kill indiscriminately. We do not murder. And they know that. They know the Empress has a soft spot for such matters. And regardless of Andrej's position, she will overrule him if she sees fit."

Riker assimilated the information. "Having a conscience always has its consequences. But I'd never give it up. It's what defines us."

Herschel kept speaking. "Why do you think Andrej let the shaman live? The others that were captured too? He knew they would more than likely be taken back into the Chieftain's forces to fight against us, but he let them live. Compassion. It's a trait that makes him an effective leader. Always has. Even during the eugenics wars, with all the chaos that war created, we still fought with compassion."

"He hunted down and killed the men responsible for his family's deaths," Troi reminded.

Herschel shrugged. "He did. And I helped him do it. So did Marking. Those men were combatants. We had evidence against them. The difference between us and them is that we did not take revenge upon their loved ones, if they had any, for their crimes. We only disposed of those responsible."

"And you brought that form of combat and leadership here with you," Riker concluded.

Herschel nodded. "If we had allowed ourselves and the people of Sardis to take revenge upon their dethroned slave masters would we have been any different than the slave masters themselves? Believe me, there were many that disagreed and some even did take to killing. But the Warrior Ruler put a stop to that by imprisoning his own people that were found guilty of killing unarmed Ti'hi. It was an unpopular position for a ruler to take, but over time things settled down. Unfortunately, his untimely death, at the hands of Ti'hi that his decree probably saved from being killed, threw us back into chaos and war. The Ti'hi saw an opportunity with Sardis being without a warrior upon the throne. The Warrior Ruler's wife was strong, but not a soldier. The Kindly One was still young and recovering from his wound. Myself, Andrej, and John had to keep the peace among our people while still fighting the Ti'hi uprising. It was probably one of the darkest times, apart from the slavery, in Sardis' recent history."

"So if the Ti'hi and Dickerson offer Doctor Crusher in exchange for surrender what will happen?" Troi wanted to know.

Herschel shrugged again. "Andrej won't accept surrender."

"But the Empress might?" Riker said.

"And Andrej," the augment sighed, "will do everything in his power to talk Tarina out of surrender."

"Even at the expense of our Chief Medical Officer?" Riker sneered a little.

Herschel cocked his head to the side. "I didn't say that, Commander. There is one power Andrej has that the Empress cannot overrule him on. It was part of The Kindly One's edict when he appointed Prazak as Supreme Commander."

"And what is that?" Troi whispered.

Riker stole a quick glance in her direction. The way she'd asked the question made it clear to him that she must have an idea of what Herschel spoke about. It was also clear that her feelings for Prazak hadn't changed after the fight between the augment and Riker.

"He can make a challenge of combat and offer himself in exchange for the hostage," Herschel stated evenly.

"He'd do that?" Riker exclaimed, his eyes going a little wide.

"He would and has done so in the past," Herschel answered. "He's a smart man. What he'll do is challenge the Chieftain to single combat, either to the death or to yield. Of course, Prazak will choose death. The Chieftain, not wanting to appear a coward in front of his forces and knowing that if he kills Prazak he'll end up taking the city, will be forced to accept. Prazak kills the Chieftain, thus securing Doctor Crusher's freedom."

"That's if he kills the Chieftain." Riker pointed out. "That creature is a massive beast." He shuddered at little at the memory of the brief, but painful fight he had with the Ti'hi leader.

A sly smile appeared on Herschel's lips. "Commander, I have zero doubt in my friend's talents. He'll kill the Chieftain, make no mistake about that. In their hearts the Ti'hi fear him. Even that Chieftain fears him though he'll never show it. They do not call him the Specter that Walks because its witty. They truly believe he is some sort of incorporeal being that cannot be killed. But they will die trying to disprove that belief."

Riker smirked. "You talk as if you believe that yourself, General."

A short chuckled escaped the other man's lips. "I know Andrej isn't a living ghost. But I have known him a very long time. He does seem quite incapable of dying. As if there is some greater force guiding him. Khan tried to kill him and failed. I've witnessed him fight against insurmountable odds during the eugenics wars and come out on top. Here on Sardis, he's been at the forefront of every major engagement, shrugging off attacks that would kill lesser men instantly. He led the charge at Tega Peak, personally killing over twenty Ti'hi singlehandedly that day. He's not a ghost, Commander, but he's definitely not an easy man to kill."

"But will Prazak survive this fight?" Deanna breathed.

Riker, in awe of Herschel's description of the other augment, wanted to know the answer to that question as well.

Herschel stood. "We can only hope he does."

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

 ** **On a different note, I will be going on leave/vacation next week for three weeks. I won't be writing during that time. I'm hoping to get the next chapter out before I leave, but I have so much to do before I get on that plane to head back home. So, as hard as I'll try, there might be a month gap until the next posting. Just wanted to give a heads up. Thanks!****

* * *

The shove in her back caused her to stumble, but Beverly stayed upright. "Hey, I'm cooperating. No need to push."

"Just keep walking."

Dickerson, still clearly annoyed by Baut's demands, had led her through a series of tunnels and passageways to where the Ti'hi kept their animals. Beverly had been offended by the stench of the creatures that held her captive, but the foul odors emanating from their animals was even worse. It took all she had to steady her racing heart and breathe evenly.

The pens were large and occupied by hairy beasts similar to horses. But where horses had long snouts and flat teeth, these creatures had shorter snouts and maws filled with fangs.

"What are these things?" she asked when they stopped in front of a pen. Inside was the most ferocious looking creature of the lot. Its matted fur, snarling maw, and dead looking eyes sent a shiver down Crusher's spine. No doubt this was the creature Baut intended to ride into Sardis.

"I never bothered to ask what they're called," Dickerson confessed.

A glance in his direction showed he too did not care for being around the beasts. Beverly decided to try bonding with her mentally ill captor once more.

"Lieutenant," she started, but quickly decided that perhaps a more informal approach might get through to him, "Matthew."

His expression seemed to convey how foreign his first name sounded to him.

"Matthew," she cooed softly, "there's still time. We can still get away. I can help you get better. Just like I did with your wounds from the cat."

He stared with an unreadable look for a few moments. Then he shook his head. "No. I have a mission to complete."

Beverly sighed internally, but didn't give up. "Let me help you complete your mission. Captain Picard has gotten close to Prazak. If I take you to him, he can take you to Prazak."

"Prazak must die," Dickerson sneered. "I need his blood. And since he won't give it to me freely, killing him is the best way. Hell, perhaps we can take his body too."

Crusher frowned a little. The man's thought process was all over the map. "Either way, we can't get to him from down here. And Baut isn't going to help."

"He's helped so far," Dickerson countered.

"Has he?" Beverly tested a little.

Dickerson quieted again, his eyes shifting from side to side as if he was debating her words. Again, he ended up shaking his head. "This is the better way."

"Matthew," she started.

"Stop it!" he shouted. Grabbing her arm, he hurled her against the wooden posts of the pen. The creature inside roared, its jaws snapping hungrily at Crusher. "Stop trying to confuse me!"

Wincing, Beverly looked at her hands. The splintered post had sliced into the top of her wrist, drawing blood and tearing at the fabric of her uniform cuff beneath her coat. "I'm sorry, Matthew. It didn't mean to."

"Just stop talking so I can think!" he spat. When he turned his back to her, Beverly knew she had only a few precious seconds to act.

Twisting her wrists within the bindings, she turned her hand in such a way to snag the loose fabric of her uniform. Using the aroused beasts growls and snarls to mask the sounds she made, she tore the strip of cloth free, swathing it in her wound to soak up some of her blood. Before Dickerson looked back, she tossed the blood soaked fabric into a pile of nearby straw, pushing it around to hide it as best she could.

Beverly knew it was a long shot that someone would find it. It meant they'd have to find this place and then find the cloth. But she had to try. Had to leave a clue in the off chance someone would discover this location in the search. It would let Captain Picard and the others know she'd been here and was still alive. But for how long she survived that all depended on keeping Dickerson or Baut from deciding she was no longer of value.

* * *

Picard's eyes were transfixed on Prazak's back. Lana's transmission had delayed them from entering the search for Beverly.

Prazak had explained that the aqueduct system they were in led out beyond the wall, connecting to underground caverns and lakes beneath the Huron Mountains. It had been a source of fresh water for decades, but as their technology advanced, this particular system was eventually abandoned.

After that, Prazak had gone quiet; silently leading the way through the tunnel. And when they reached a dead end, Picard heard the augment's frustrated sigh. Picard felt the same.

"We should head back," Prazak said as he turned around to look at Picard and Guinan. "We're running out of time."

Picard didn't like it, but he didn't argue. He'd heard nothing from the others; his calls to Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf had gone unanswered. He chalked it up to the underground caverns causing interference with the combadges.

Prazak stepped by, taking the lead again to head back the way they'd come. Picard's anxiety remained, but he knew Beverly was strong. Both in determination and wits. She'd do what was necessary to stay alive until they could rescue her. And that moment couldn't come fast enough to Jean-Luc. They'd only been here for a few days, but he'd grown weary of everything about their mission on Sardis. And he still had to devise a strategy for faking Prazak's death. It was either that or the more troublesome alternative; confront Admiral Yamoto directly about the clandestine operation to capture and experiment on Prazak and his fellow augments while stealing the life giving extract. Neither option was clean, but Picard felt the former was far less messy in the long run than the latter.

"Where is La Barre?" Prazak asked out of the blue.

Picard blinked, caught off guard by the question. "In northeastern France. My family owns a vineyard there. It's been in the family for generations. "

Prazak went quiet again.

Picard looked towards Guinan. Her eyes revealed her own curiosity at Prazak's question. But she didn't seem surprised. Picard assumed it wasn't the first time she'd witnessed her friend's strange behavior.

They continued on and eventually Prazak spoke again. "When I was a child I didn't know what I was. I remembered the facility and the people, but I didn't know why I was there. Later, after the project was dismantled and we were sent to live with whatever family we had, I still didn't know what I was."

Picard sucked in a breath and listened. He wasn't about to interrupt and lose the opportunity to learn more about this man and his troublesome beginnings.

"One day, I asked my mother why I didn't have a father like the other children at my school. She told me he'd died, but she didn't say how. I believed her and told the children at school the same thing the next time they teased me. But children are relentless and they continued to ridicule me. They called my mother names. Said I had a father, but my mother didn't know who he was because she was a whore. Khan said the same thing about her. The children didn't stop their teasing until I fought back. I didn't know my own strength. I broke the arm of one of my tormentors, snapping it as easily as a twig."

Guinan leaned close to Picard's ear. "I've never heard this before."

Prazak looked back over his shoulder. "Because I never told anyone before."

Guinan looked away, but Prazak didn't appear upset.

He went on. "I continued to go to school and the children left me alone to move on to easier prey. Let's just say I put a stop to that too. I was suspended from school for some time and I thought I would be punished. It was then that my mother told me about the eugenics project. About what I was. I didn't understand. Not until I was older. But she told me to never reveal to anyone where I'd come from. And to never use my strength or superior intellect to hurt others. Not unless they were hurting someone else, like I did for the children at school. I should have remembered her advice when Mister Seven first approached me. If I had, I might have prevented Khan from starting the war."

Picard breathed a little. "Why did you ask about France?"

Prazak cocked his head a little. "You asked me if I had ever been to France and I told you I had. I'm curious where your home was."

Picard remembered the conversation. "I assumed you'd been there because of the war."

"I imagine it is still beautiful and peaceful. France I mean," Prazak mused. "That is how I remember it. Same with my home country and Praha. Praha was such a beautiful city." Stopping, he looked back at Picard. "Does it surprise you, Captain? That one such as myself can appreciate the beauties and wonders of nature."

"At this point, General," Picard smiled, "nothing about you surprises me anymore. You've proven yourself the complete opposite of what we were led to believe about you. May I ask, were you in France during the war against Khan?"

Prazak started to walk again. "No. It was before, when I was in the Czech army. I was a newly promoted Captain. I had recently met Alena at a market in Praha."

"Your wife," Guinan said.

Prazak nodded. "She was not one of us, but that didn't matter. I had never felt an instant connection with someone like I did with her. A year later, after I had saved some money, I took her on holiday to Sainte-Mere-Eglise. To see where her grandfather fought in the resistance against axis forces during the second world war. It was there, on the beaches of Normandy, that she told me she was pregnant."

Prazak ran his hands through his hair. "I wanted to marry her right then and there, Captain, in France. I was scared to death, if you can believe that, but also the happiest I'd ever been. We waited till we returned to Czechoslovakia to marry. We barely had any money, but we managed. My mother and grandmother helped. And after our son was born our daughter arrived a year later. I was content to live out my life as it was. After my time in the army was over I found suitable work to support my family. I cared nothing about what I was. About where I had come from. Not until Khan took my happiness from me."

"I remember," Guinan whispered sympathetically.

"France was a good memory for me. A place of love and beginnings. Now I cannot think of it without thinking of what I lost. It's not your fault, Captain Picard, I just felt an explanation for my behavior at the dinner was in order."

Picard's voice was gentle. "You don't owe me an explanation, General, but I do appreciate it. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for what you went through during those times. No one should have to suffer such terrible losses."

A sad smile spread across Prazak's face. He nodded once at Jean-Luc. "We'll get Doctor Crusher back safely, Captain. I promise."

"Thank you," Picard replied truthfully.

Prazak pointed at Guinan. "And just like in the old days, we'll celebrate the victory with raised glasses. You being a bartender will make that easier."

"It's a deal, Andrej." Guinan laughed.

"Let's pick up the pace," Prazak urged. "We need to get back and regroup with the others to see if they've discovered anything. I have a feeling the battle is just over the horizon."

* * *

Every muscle in her body was on fire. Never in her life had Lady Sa felt so physically drained. With a sigh, she gathered up her work documents, stuffing them into her satchel. On top of the physical training she and the rest of the nobility were now required to perform she still had her normal duties to complete.

Standing, Sa shifted her legs in an attempt to work out the soreness in them. The council meeting had lasted longer than anticipated. Not that it mattered at the moment. All nobility social functions that would come after such meetings had been cancelled due to the impending invasion. Sa's days of attending elegant and luxurious parties would have to wait. At least until the threat of the Ti'hi was finally resolved. And for Sa, that day couldn't come fast enough. Like the majority of her fellow nobles, she despised the idea of having to fight. That's what the army was supposed to do.

"Metalya."

Sa glanced to her left. It wasn't often she heard her first name; even within her own circles.

The speaker smiled. Arms crossed over his chest, he leaned his backside against the table as he looked into her eyes.

"What is it, Baron?"

The man, Baron Jesper Hurrey, was handsome and wealthy. His face, with his dark green eyes, hawk like nose and soft lips was perfectly symmetrical in every way. His hair, dark and thick, was styled with great attention to detail and his goatee was immaculately trimmed. He was young and therefore in great physical shape which one could tell even through his tailored trousers, jacket, and shirt. He didn't appear tired, even though he'd spent the day training and the evening working, just like Sa and the others.

"I was wondering if you'd like to join me for drink?"

Sa shook her head. "I'm exhausted, Jesper. I don't see how you aren't as well."

She left out that she also wasn't feeling well. Just the thought of alcohol made her head spin and her stomach churn.

Hurrey shrugged nonchalantly. "Come on just one. Who knows when we'll have another chance? Or are you…" he trailed off.

"Am I what?" Sa arched an eyebrow at the man.

Sa knew that Hurrey was never one to shy away from speaking to a woman that he was interested in, however she could tell at the moment he was a tad nervous. She was pretty sure she knew the cause.

"Am I concerned about General Prazak's opinion?" Sa questioned.

Hurrey averted his eyes as he shrugged.

"Or are you worried about that?" Sa went on.

"Well, it's not like we don't all know how he feels about you," Hurrey finally replied.

Sa didn't respond. The mere thought of Prazak would send her emotions on a craggy path of ups and downs. Add his behavior towards Sa since the Starfleet counselor appeared and Sa's chest would burn.

"Jesper," Sa stated, "I appreciate the offer, but honestly, I'm just ready to retire for the evening."

"Then let me walk you home," Jesper offered. "It's on my way. I can hardly see General Prazak taking offense to that. He'd like to know that you were kept safe during these high tension times. Even if he doesn't realize it at the moment."

"I can agree to that." Sa smiled.

A short time later, the two had left the Empress' Tower. Dark and quiet, the city went about its business, even with the looming threat of invasion. Everyone, noble and commoner alike, knew the stakes. Knew that defeat would signal the end of their thriving livelihood. Yet, as the two nobles walked through the snowy streets, the few conversations they heard were upbeat and encouraging. No one doubted that Sardis would end up triumphant.

Hurrey stayed close to Sa's side; closer than Sa would have liked. If the Baron was attempting to be subtle in regards to his feelings, and his intentions, with Sa he wasn't doing a very good job of it. It bothered her more than it should have considering her current status with Prazak. Which, when she thought about it, was as unclear to her as Sardis' future.

Those thoughts led her to ponder the Starfleet personnel, specifically the Counselor. Ruminations clouded Sa's mind and she wondered where all those people were at the moment. Last she'd seen they'd been keeping close to Prazak and the others. And while the starship Captain had stated he no longer intended to arrest the men, Sa couldn't help but question the legitimacy of the man's words. And for all her current frustration with Andrej, the last thing she wanted was to see him hauled off-world in chains; never to be heard from again. The thought was almost too much to bear.

Shaking the depressing musings from her brain, Sa blinked. The streets had gone quiet. They were nearing the Field of Honor. The solemn and revered site was of immense historical significance to the people of Sardis. The former Emperors and their families were all buried within the hallowed grounds as well as the countless soldiers that had given their lives in defense of Sardis' freedom. It was a place of mourning and respect.

She heard voices on the wind. Hurrey must have heard them too. Faint and low, coming from the entrance to the cemetery. As they drew closer, Sa, without thinking, encircled her arm into Jesper's. The Baron responded by placing a hand atop hers and pulling her closer.

They paused a number of paces away from the dark gates. They exchanged worried looks. On top of the low and gruff voices was a smell. A smell that shouldn't be anywhere within the city, especially at the gravesite of Sardis' honored dead. The smell of the Ti'hi.

Sa shook her head. She had to be imagining it.

"Wait here," Hurrey ordered, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. He dropped her hand.

Sa didn't listen. She followed right behind the Baron.

"Oy! What's going on here?" Hurrey announced suddenly.

Sa could make out the forms of at least two, possibly three, people just beyond the open gates. They were moving something between each other from a cart. All three stopped what they were doing at the sound of the Baron's voice.

"I said, what's going on here?" Hurrey repeated. He reached for the small dirk he carried on his hip, but he didn't pull it out.

The closest figure stepped out of the shadows. Sa inhaled. She heard Hurrey do the same upon recognizing the man. The other two slinked into the shadowy protection between the cart and wall of the grounds.

"Hey, old man," Hurrey said, his posture relaxing, "you startled us."

"You startled me, Baron," the man replied.

Sa took a step forward.

"What's this all about?" Hurrey asked with a wave at the cart and the gate.

"Nothing," the man said, his voice shaky. "Just unloading some supplies."

Hurrey laughed. He didn't sound alarmed at all. "You? Unloading supplies in the dead of night? And here of all places? Come on, old man, I don't think so."

"Well," the man shrugged, "sometimes these things must be done in a hurry."

"What've you got there?" Hurrey said, moving to step by the other man.

The man stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I said nothing. Go about your business, Baron."

Sa could tell Hurrey had grown suspicious. The younger man shrugged out of the other's grasp. "Come now, what's this all about? And what's with the stench? Smells like a T-,"

A rush of air, followed by a wet thud cut the Baron off mid-sentence. Sa froze as Hurrey spun halfway around, his hands going to his throat. Eyes wide, the Baron tried to speak, but the bolt in his throat prevented him from doing so. A pained gurgling noise emanated from his lips as blood spilled from his mouth and neck. Hurrey dropped to his knees.

"What have you done?" the other man growled back to his hidden companions that had fired the crossbow into the nobleman's neck.

Sa tried to move, but she couldn't take her eyes off her dying friend. It was only when she heard the distinct sounds of the crossbow being reloaded did she manage to look at the other man. "You bastard! You…you traitor! General Prazak shall hear of this!"

She turned, forcing her legs to move, to propel herself to safety and raise an alarm. But the man had his arms around her before she could take two steps.

"Quiet!" he barked.

"Let go of me!" Sa lashed at his face, digging her fingernails into his flesh to draw blood. "You're consorting with the enemy!"

"I said quiet," he repeated.

Knowing she had to escape, Sa slammed her heel down on top of her captor's foot. He yelped and loosened his hold. Pushing away, Sa tried to run, but her attacker recovered faster. Grabbing her arm, he jerked and twisted. Tears welled in her eyes and she cried out as her forearm snapped in two.

"Stupid woman!" he spat as Sa cradled her broken arm. "Why did you have to walk this path? Of all paths! Of all nights! Damn you!"

He lashed out in anger. Unable to defend herself in time, Sa took the full force of the man's blow straight to her right eye. Her head started to swim as bones crunched in her face. He hit her across the jaw. She wavered, but he grabbed her by her uninjured arm, steadied her footing and hit her again. She sagged and when he let go she sank to the snow covered walkway. The last thing she recalled before blackness took her was falling next to the lifeless form of Baron Jesper Hurrey, the Ti'hi bolt still protruding from his throat.

* * *

Sucking in a deep breath and holding it in, Worf squeezed through the narrow passageway. How the Sardis boy had found the hidden portal amazed Worf. Tega had stated that he'd almost missed it, but had felt the faintest of warm breezes as he'd passed by. That had caused him to stop and investigate the strange phenomena more thoroughly.

"The door opens further," Marking stated with a look back to Worf, "but we don't want to risk too much noise."

Worf pressed a palm against his upper thigh, keeping his weapon and the leather scabbard that held it firmly against his leg, preventing it from scraping against the walls.

The passage eventually opened up again and the further the trio descended into it, the stronger the damp air and foul stench that hung in the passage became. Worf had grown accustomed to the smells associated with the enemy of Sardis, yet his nostrils flared as the offending odor burned in his nose.

It was some time before the group arrived at what Tega had found. A wide cavern that had clearly once been used, but recently abandoned. A few burnt out torches had been left in place, but the majority of the cavern was cloaked in shadows. Here the stench was powerful. Marking peeled off to light a handful of the torches before rejoining Worf and the boy.

"Looks like a staging area," Marking stated. He kicked a pile of straw and bones. "And they left in a hurry." He looked at the boy. "Was this already abandoned when you found it?"

Tega nodded. "I didn't venture too far, Sir. I didn't know if any Ti'hi remained. I figured it best to get back to the surface to find a soldier that I could tell."

Marking patted the boy's shoulder. "Wise move."

Surveying the area, Worf examined what the Ti'hi had left behind. Mostly crudely designed furniture, eating utensils, and cups. He also discovered some damaged weaponry. Uncared for short swords and axes covered in rust; dented and broken. Rifling through a pile of the blades, he discovered badly designed bolts to use with crossbows. Grabbing a couple, he showed them to Marking.

The scout leader chewed at his bottom lip. "The Ti'hi have been known to use crossbows to hunt." He ran his hand along the misshapen shaft, but concentrated on the steel tip on the end. "These, however, would be overkill."

"For an animal," Worf said, "but not for piercing armor."

Marking tossed the bolts back into the pile. "True. These are clearly defects, but we have to assume they have plenty that are not."

"Colonel," Tega called. The boy had wandered a ways away to an alcove in the wall off to the left.

Joining the boy, Worf and Marking exchanged a look. "Pens," Marking muttered.

The alcove was a haphazardly assembled stable, complete with enclosures, straw, and left behind tack. The alcove was actually another smaller cavern with an exit at the far end. Worf treaded carefully to avoid the piles of animal dung in the main walkway.

"When we first encountered these creatures," Worf growled, "some were mounted on animals."

Marking was staring at the ceiling. "Based on the path we took to get here, I'd say we are some under the mountains." He looked back at Worf. "We are no longer under the city."

"Is that significant?" Worf asked.

"I'm not sure." The Colonel scratched his jaw. "I'd say it's safe to assume the Ti'hi have dug out multiple areas like this one. Yet it must have taken time and they more than likely had help."

Worf returned to his search. He could see that more pens stretched further into the darkness at the far end of the tunnel. Stepping towards the closest pen, his nose scrunched at the smell. Looking about, his eyes were drawn towards a pile of straw towards the edge of the enclosure. Crouching, he pushed the loose straw aside to pick up the object that had drawn him over. Carefully, he held the torn strip of cloth between his fingers as he stood. The color and texture were identical to the material used in Starfleet uniforms. What concerned him was the crumpled corners of the torn fabric. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed. Definitely human blood.

Marking had come up next to him. "What did you find?"

"A piece of Doctor Crusher's uniform," he stated, holding it out for the augment to see. "Stained with blood."

Marking touched it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. And it means she's alive." Worf knew it was a false conclusion, but he had to hang on to his hope. This wasn't the first time Doctor Crusher had been placed in a dangerous position and he knew the woman had the wits and skills to defend herself. As well as take the time to leave a clue. But again, it was just a piece of blood caked cloth. It could have been torn during a struggle or soaked with blood in the final moments of her life.

No. Worf growled. He had to maintain the belief that she was alive until evidence appeared suggesting otherwise.

"It's a good sign, my friend," Marking stated, interfering with Worf's internal struggle. "She was definitely here."

"But where is she now is the question?" Worf snarled. "How many Ti'hi are there?"

Marking shook his head. "Hard to say. From what we can te-"

A pained groan echoed off the chamber walls behind the men. Worf spun, as did Marking, who drew his sword in one fluid and silent motion.

Exiting the pens, the men cautiously returned to the main chamber. Worf felt Tega's presence behind them, advancing with the two men. Slowly, Worf drew his sword.

Another groan reverberated off the walls. It came from another small alcove further back. Marking motioned for Worf to circle out and around, so he could place himself on the opposite side of the entrance. Tega stayed with the Colonel.

As they approached, a figure crawled out of the alcove's shadowy mouth. A Ti'hi foot soldier, purple body charred and bloodied ignored the men as it painfully dragged itself into the open.

Marking advanced on the creature. Worf did the same. When they reached it, the Ti'hi stopped and let out another agonizing moan. Worf's eyes examined the male creature. He was dressed, but just like his skin, his clothing was charred and bloody as well. Worf also saw that the creature wasn't armed.

Marking sheathed his sword and crouched down next to the wounded Ti'hi. Worf did the same and carefully assisted the Colonel in flipping the Ti'hi onto his back. The front of his body was as badly burned as his back. His face so badly damaged that only one of his eyes still functioned. The other appeared to have disintegrated within its socket.

"What happened to you?" Marking asked the Ti'hi.

Worf scowled. "Ask him where Doctor Crusher has been taken."

Marking did as Worf asked, but the Ti'hi mumbled and shook his head.

"He claims he doesn't know," Marking sighed.

The Ti'hi groaned.

"Would his own do this to him? Punishment for disobedience perhaps?" Worf asked as the Ti'hi's clawed hands pawed at the air.

Marking shook his head. "No. Not something like this. As cruel and wicked as they are, they still recognize the need for every single body they have in order to fight. If he was disobedient or insubordinate, they'd have whipped and beaten him, but then put a weapon back in his hand and sent him back off to fight. No. This…this was an accident. And they left him here to die."

Worf assimilated the augment's words. Even though they were enemies, it was clear that Marking felt bad for the wounded Ti'hi.

Tega cleared his throat, getting the men's attention. "Sirs." He stood at the mouth of the alcove and nodded towards it once Worf and Marking looked in his direction.

Standing, they left the wounded creature for a moment to examine what Tega had found. Shining his light inside, Marking inhaled sharply. Worf did the same.

Stacks of crates filled the small area. Stepping inside, Worf watched as Marking opened a few of the boxes, discovering they were empty. Something about the way the Colonel's facial features hardened bothered Worf.

"What is it?" he asked.

Marking frowned. "These crates…"

"What about them?"

"They once held explosives." Marking looked back towards the Ti'hi. "Something happened and he was injured by them. But that's not what bothers me."

Worf sneered a little. Marking went back to the creature. Worf stayed on the augment's heels.

Kneeling down, Marking asked the dying creature, "Where did you get those crates? And where are the explosives that were inside?"

The Ti'hi shook his head a little, wincing as he did.

Marking scowled. "Tell me!"

Again the Ti'hi shook his head, but this time he started to mumble. Marking leaned over his face, putting his ear as close to the Ti'hi's mouth as possible.

After the creature stopped, the augment looked back at Worf. "They've never had explosives in the past. Only…only we do."

"Could they have developed them on their own?" Worf questioned.

Marking had turned to look back at the alcove. He didn't look back as he spoke. "No. Those crates. They are ours."

Worf frowned. He knew what Marking's statement meant. Someone within Sardis had supplied the Ti'hi with deadly explosives. The insider threat.

The augment returned his focus to the Ti'hi. "Tell me who brought you those crates."

Leaning down again, he listened to the creature's dying words. Worf saw the Colonel's face darken as the Ti'hi spoke.

"What did he say?" Worf asked when the Ti'hi stopped and Marking leaned back.

"The name of the supplier," Marking grumbled. "Andrej was right."

Marking gave the creature another look then set his eyes on Worf. "We have to get back to the city and inform Andrej and the Empress. I fear the Ti'hi may use the explosives to breach the wall." He pulled a short dagger from the front of his belt. "Take the boy back to the entrance."

Worf held the Colonel's gaze. He knew what was to come. There was no saving the Ti'hi. The least Marking could do for the dying being was provide a quick and painless death. While it wasn't what Starfleet would approve, it was an honorable gesture within the Klingon culture. Worf could respect that.

With a nod, Worf stood. "Come with me, Tega."

If the boy knew what was about to happen, he didn't say anything. He just nodded and joined Worf at his side. As they headed back to in the direction they'd come, Worf glanced back over his shoulder. Marking was watching them depart. The Colonel had a hand on the Ti'hi shoulder while his other hovered the dagger over the creature's chest. Worf nodded. Marking returned the nod then focused his attention on his horrible, but merciful task.

Worf didn't hear the creature die, but when Marking joined him and Tega at the entrance a few minutes later, he knew the Colonel had completed his task.

"It's done," Marking reported. "Now, let's hurry back."

Worf nudged the boy forward. To Marking he said, "An honorable act, Sir."

* * *

Troi reached up, grabbing the outstretched hands of Will and General Herschel so the two men could haul her out of the access hole. Keeping hold of them, she found her footing in the snow, shivering at the immediate change in temperature.

"You okay?" Will asked, rubbing her arm.

Troi nodded. "Yes. Just a bit chilled from the sudden cold."

"Come on," Herschel inclined his head, "we need to get to the Tower to either rejoin or wait for the others."

Riker tapped his combadge and called out for both the Captain and Worf. When he didn't receive any responses, Deanna tried hers. She frowned when her results were the same.

"I'm sure they're fine," Will stated. "Must still be underground. Can you sense anyone?"

Troi searched with her mind, reaching out and pushing her abilities to their limits. She even attempted to call to Prazak, but he didn't answer. Shaking her head, she looked at Riker. "Nothing. All I sense is us and the population around us."

"Again, I'm sure they're okay." Will smiled.

Deanna was warmed by Riker's smile. Ever since his fight with Prazak, he'd been cordial, giving her the time and space she needed. Deanna welcomed that. And it reminded her of the close and intimate connection she and Will shared. Would always share.

Deanna lowered her voice as they followed Herschel through the streets. "Will, I'm sorry for treating you so harshly these last few days."

"Deanna," Riker wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I understand. And no matter what happens, just know that I'm here for you. I always have been and always will be. No matter what."

His words, just like his body heat, were soothing. She found comfort in the familiarity Riker offered. She didn't know what she'd do about Prazak, but at the end of the day, she knew she'd return to the _Enterprise_. And that would be the end of whatever she chose to call her time with Andrej.

They'd been walking for a few blocks when a stumbling figured rounded a deserted corner up ahead. Herschel froze, but only for a second. He rushed forward. Exchanging looks, Deanna and Will followed.

At once, Deanna recognized the woman. It was Prazak's former lover. The noblewoman Sa.

Herschel reached out, steadying the injured woman. "Lady Sa, what's happened to you?"

"Help," she mumbled.

Troi stepped forward. She placed a hand on the woman's upper arm. When she recoiled, Troi knew it was from physical pain and not an emotional response.

Deanna looked at the General. "Her arm is broken."

"Someone beat her about the face," Herschel scowled. "Come, Sa. We need to get you to the doctor."

"You...have...to...him...Baron...stop...dead," the noblewoman stuttered incoherently.

"Try not to speak," Herschel said.

"I tried...to stop him...tell...Andrej...must tell..."

"Shhh," Herschel soothed.

Deanna studied the woman as they hurried along. Will was right behind them, helping to ensure the woman didn't collapse. Sa's injuries were serious. In addition to the woman's feelings, Deanna sensed something else, something strange, yet she couldn't place it. And when Sa moaned and sagged in hers and Herschel's grasp, Deanna focused all her concentration on helping the woman.

"Commander," Herschel was glancing back at Will, "can you run ahead and get help? Alert the guards posted at the stairs of the Tower's entrance if you don't come across anyone before that. Tell them I sent you and to call for aid."

"On it," Riker said. "Be right back, Deanna."

"Thank you for the assistance," Herschel stated as they got Sa moving forward again.

"Who do you think did this to her?" Deanna asked.

Herschel shook his head, the edges of his lips curling downward into a deep frown. "I don't know, but whoever it was, they'll regret what they've done."

Deanna kept moving as she waited for Herschel to say more.

Herschel sneered. "Attacking a noble is a serious crime. Attacking a noblewoman that is intimately involved with the Army's Supreme Commander," he actually chuckled a little, "let's just say that when Prazak finds whoever did this, that person will have very little time to reflect on his poor choices in life."

Keeping a steady hand on the Lady Sa, Deanna's eyes roamed up and down the woman, taking in her injuries. She never believed that violence and revenge were suitable responses to most situations, but at the moment, looking upon the poor woman's state, Deanna didn't disagree with Herschel. Someone needed to pay for what they'd done to the Lady Sa. And Deanna knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Prazak would be the one to collect on that payment.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

 **I apologize for the long period between posting. I went on leave. When I got back I tried to get this chapter done before heading to the Olympics this past weekend. But I'm back on track now !**

* * *

The moment they'd exited the tunnel soldiers had been waiting. Urgently, they reported to Prazak about the attack on the Lady Sa. Every emotion imaginable, some of which confused him, had run through Prazak's head while they hurried to the infirmary; a short trip that felt like an eternity.

When he arrived Prazak found Herschel was still present; as was Commander Riker and Counselor Troi. The two Starfleet officers flashed compassionate looks his way before they moved off to join Picard and Guinan. Watching them step aside, Prazak once again found himself flooded with emotions. His feelings for Sa had never been substantial and he didn't think he was in love with the noblewoman, but now he was beginning to second guess himself. Why else would he be feeling this way? And if that was the case, if he really did love her, he quickly realized just what an ass he'd been; both to her and Counselor Troi. Yet all of that would have to wait. First he had to discover just what transpired that landed Sa in the infirmary. And on top of this new event, he still had the looming threat of the Ti'hi invasion, sealing the tunnels, and rescuing Doctor Crusher to worry about.

Composing himself, Prazak went to Herschel. "What happened? Where did you find her?"

Herschel's chest heaved from the deep breath he took. "You should go see her, Andrej."

Prazak nodded as Herschel pointed towards the back of the infirmary. Leaving his friend, he went to the private room where Doctor Belan was waiting in the threshold.

Normally the nobility would not receive care in the army's facility, preferring to be treated by their own staff of physicians. However, Prazak assumed that based on time and severity, Herschel had brought Sa here to see Belan versus dealing with the nobles.

"Her injuries are significant, but not life threatening," the doctor stated.

Of all the feelings coursing through Andrej's body, anger rose above the rest, settling at the forefront of his mind. His breathing shortened and his chest constricted. He didn't speak; he knew if he did that anger would boil over. Belan did not deserve his wrath.

"She's tired, so please be gentle," Belan whispered softly.

"I will," Prazak growled, his jaws clenched tightly together.

With that the doctor stepped out of his path. "The rest of her test results should be ready momentarily. I want to ensure there's no internal injuries."

Slowly, Prazak went to the bed. Sa's injuries definitely looked bad. So bad that Andrej paused half way to the bed. He took a second or two, pushing his anger aside. When he finally moved again, he was at Sa's side within a heartbeat.

Her injuries shocked him. Tore at him. Andrej accepted that his behavior since Starfleet's arrival had been less than honorable. And he could not dismiss that fact that Sa had also acted jealously towards Troi. But even that behavior did not warrant what happened to her. Nothing did. Not in Prazak's mind.

Eyes roaming up and down her blanket covered form, Prazak took in his former lover's injuries. One eye was completely swollen shut, surrounded with black and blue bruises and puffy skin. Her nose was swollen and surrounded by more bruises. A superficial cut adorned her cheek and she had a split lip. Her forearm was in a cast. Her usually perfect mane of rich, thick auburn hair was flat and bland. a dark blotch on her scalp indicated to Andrej that her attacker had pulled a bunch of her hair so hard that she'd bled at the scalp.

Sa's uninjured eye shifted, looking at him. Reaching down, Andrej gently picked up her free hand in between both of his. He wasn't sure what to say. When he finally did speak, the words came out soft. "I'm sorry."

Sa tried to smile, but winced instead. Her lips to curl downward. "Sorry? Why?"

"For…this." Andrej motioned at her body with a nod of his head.

"No. Don't be. This wasn't your fault."

"Tell me who did this to you. I'll have his head."

Sighing, she closed her one good eye. Andrej kept a hold of her hand while he stared at her battered countenance. Even behind the bruises and scars she was still so beautiful. Just when he was convinced she'd fallen asleep, she opened her good eye.

"It hurts to try to remember," she breathed. "But I can recall some."

Prazak briefly tensed then forced himself to relax his hands so he didn't injure her further. "What do you remember?"

"Hurrey," she said.

Prazak's brow furrowed. "Baron Jesper Hurrey? He did this to you?"

Prazak was familiar with Hurrey. He was young, brash, and wealthy, but he was also reasonable and for the most part easy to work with in regards to Sardis matters. Prazak couldn't imagine the Baron being capable of such viciousness against Sa.

Sa's head moved from side to side. "No. But he was there. He was…walking me home."

Someone behind them coughed. Looking back over his shoulder, Prazak saw Belan had returned. Herschel stood in the doorway and Guinan and Troi stood just beyond. They all appeared concerned.

Quietly, Belan came forward, rounding the bed to stand on the opposite side across from Prazak. She held a datapadd in her hands. "Lady Sa, we discovered something in your test results."

Prazak didn't like the tone of Belan's voice. It unnerved him for some reason. "What?"

Belan glanced at him, then back at her patient. She held the padd out in a manner that allowed Sa to read it without injury. "The good news is that no injury was done."

"No injury? Look at her!" Andrej exclaimed.

He felt Sa's fingers curl around his own. He looked down at her.

"I didn't know," Sa muttered.

"Didn't know what?" Prazak pressed.

"Ours," she answered. She gave his hand another squeeze then let go. He watched as her hand glided over the blanket to rest atop it. Over her stomach.

Prazak blinked. His gaze went to Sa then to Belan then back to Sa. He even glanced over his shoulder as he straightened. Herschel was coming over, apparently concerned by the look on his friend's face.

Belan handed the padd over to Prazak. She smiled. "Lady Sa is pregnant."

Prazak's eyes couldn't focus on the readout; everything had suddenly gone blurry. He felt like he'd just been hit in the gut by a Ti'hi mace. His mouth hung agape. "How?" he whispered.

That caused Sa and Belan to both chuckle softly. "I'm sure you know how it works, General," Belan offered.

"What is it, Andrej?" Herschel asked. He'd come up next to him so quietly that Andrej had only been vaguely aware of his presence. Something that would never happen if his head was clear. His focus was all over the place.

"General Prazak is going to be a father," Belan stated.

"Again," he whispered. The last time he had children was on Earth. And Khan had killed them. The thought tore away any happiness that had been building in Prazak from this unexpected news. He was going to be a father again. Whoever had attacked Sa had almost taken that from him. Again.

He handed the padd back to Belan. To Sa he said, "Can you remember anything else? Anything other than Hurrey? Please try."

Sa's smile disappeared. He could see her straining to remember.

Commotion behind him forced Prazak to look away. Colonel Marking, accompanied by Worf and, to Andrej's surprise, the La'trec boy Tega, appeared. Marking came straight to Prazak. The Starfleet personnel were now all gathered just inside the doorway. It was getting crowded.

"Andrej," Marking said. He paused when he saw Sa in the bed. Looking up, he asked, "What happened to her?"

"Someone attacked her," Andrej sneered. "Did you discover anything?"

Marking nodded. "The Ti'hi have explosives."

"What?" Prazak barked.

Marking nodded. "We found the boy in the tunnels and he showed us an abandoned cavern the Ti'hi used as an assembly area."

"The smell," Sa said, causing all the men to look in her direction. "It was Ti'hi rot."

"You smelled Ti'hi when you were attacked?" he asked. The anger was swelling up again.

Sa nodded once.

Prazak looked back at Marking. "What else?"

"There was an injured Ti'hi that was barely alive. He told me who supplied the explosives."

"Get to it, man!" Prazak stated hotly.

"Formic," Sa said. "It was Formic."

Marking's eyes went wide. He looked between the woman and Andrej. "Formic, yes."

Andrej set Sa's hand down on the bed. "Wait. Count Formic is the supplier or is the one that attacked you, Sa?"

"Yes," Sa and Marking answered simultaneously. Sa continued to speak. "Someone with Formic shot Hurrey with a bolt. So much blood. It was horrible. Andrej, please."

Prazak inhaled sharply. It all crashed at once. Count Formic was the insider threat. Sa and Hurrey must have somehow discovered Formic's treachery and he'd lashed out at Sa, probably with the intention of killing her after shooting Hurrey.

Prazak's anger boiled over into full blown rage. It burned at the back of his eyes. Scorched his heart. Formic would pay for his betrayal, Prazak would see to that.

Turning back to Sa, he leaned his head next to hers. "I'll make Formic regret his decision to hurt you. You and our unborn child."

"Its more than me, Andrej. He betrayed Sardis," Sa replied. "He's disgraced the nobility."

"He'll answer for his crimes," Prazak declared. "And when the Empress sentences him to die I'll gladly be the one to carry out her decree."

Sa frowned a little.

Prazak checked his anger. "Rest now, Lady Sa. When I see you again, all will be set right again. I promise."

Turning, he led his two friends back to where the Starfleet officers and Tega stood. "I shall inform the Empress so she can order Formic's arrest. If he is conspiring with the enemy he may know where Doctor Crusher is being held. That and the Ti'hi's plans of attack."

Picard nodded. "Thank you. This must be a lot for you to assimilate."

Prazak waved a dismissive hand. "I know what must be done. In the meantime," he looked at Marking, "gather a group of your best scouts and meet us outside the Tower's entrance. Wilhelm, retrace Sa's path from where you found her. If Formic and his co-conspirators shot Hurrey with a crossbow bolt he is more than likely dead. Find his body."

Prazak turned his attention to Tega. "Little Tega, I am not going to ask what you are doing here."

Tega opened his mouth to speak, but Prazak held up a hand to silence the boy. "You found the hideout and helped discover important information about our enemies. I ask only one more thing of you, child."

Tega puffed out his chest. "Anything, General."

"Go. Bring me my battle armor," Prazak stated.

* * *

Picard had been asked to wait outside Tarina's Great Hall. His officers and Guinan formed a semi-circle around him. Lieutenant Worf had repeated what Marking had told Prazak for Picard's benefit and showed him the piece of bloodied cloth he'd discovered in the pens.

The tricorder confirmed it was Beverly's blood. "So she was there at some point."

"The cavern appeared to have been abandoned fairly quickly," Worf stated. "However, determining how much of a head start they had or where they'd gone was impossible to tell."

"Based on the injuries of the wounded creature," Riker mused. "It sounds like they hadn't left all that long ago. He'd surely have died on his own if he'd been left there for a significant amount of time."

"Agreed, Commander." Worf nodded.

"Which means that Doctor Crusher is more than likely still alive," Picard concluded. The thought gave him renewed hope. And while he'd have preferred to reinitiate the search, he did not believe Prazak was willing to do so.

"What are your orders, Captain?" Riker wanted to know.

"For now, we see what this man they plan to arrest tells us," Picard stated dryly. "We can only hope he knows where Crusher is being held. And when we find her we'll have Dickerson again. I want him detained immediately the moment he resurfaces. I'll deal with negotiating with the Empress for rightful custody if necessary."

"Let's just hope Prazak doesn't kill this Count Formic," Riker grumbled while stroking his beard. "He barely seemed able to control his rage when he learned of the news."

"Will," Troi stated. "The man just found out one of their own betrayed them as well as attacked a pregnant woman. I'd have been more surprised if he hadn't been angered at the news."

"And how do you feel about that news, Deanna?" Riker whispered.

Troi frowned. Picard cut the conversation off before it could go any further. He needed his people focused on Doctor Crusher. "There'll be time later for you two to discuss that topic between yourselves. For now, we focus on Beverly and Dickerson."

Riker's mouth drew into a tight line. Troi looked away from the Commander, appearing relieved she didn't have to answer Will's question at the moment.

Riker nodded. "Aye, Captain."

"Number One, I want you to stay here with Guinan and see if you can learn anything more from General Herschel. Myself, Counselor Troi, and Mister Worf will accompany Prazak. If this nobleman says anything about Doctor Crusher I want to be present."

* * *

Fury burned in Prazak's heart. Count Formic's alleged betrayal infuriated Andrej to the point of blind rage. Years of fighting to keep Sardis free from the brutality of the Ti'hi was close to collapse due an already wealthy nobleman's greedy thirst for more power and luxury.

The nobility had it all, but yet some still craved more. Formic's residence proved the nobleman had benefited greatly from his status within society, but for some reason it just wasn't enough. One of the largest homes within the noble's district, Formic had surrounded himself with the best that money and trade could provide. His staff was well paid, but from the way they allowed Prazak and the soldiers unchallenged and unannounced access to Formic's home, Prazak knew they cared little for their employer. Andrej didn't blame them. They were commoners and as such, still looked down upon by the nobility, no matter how loyal they were to those that paid them.

Perhaps this was the turning point for the nobles. Perhaps now the Empress would see that while her father's intentions had been admirable and even beneficial to society, allowing the nobility to go unchecked had caused corruption and greed within the entitled group. Not all the nobility were like Formic, however. Some had not attained the wealth and prestige that he had, especially those that governed the outlying villages and farming communities. But within the city, most had proven otherwise.

Moving quietly through the house, Prazak thought back to Lady Sa. Even with the presence of the Starfleet personnel, including Counselor Troi, he couldn't help but think about his former lover and the state she was currently in. Between what Marking had discovered and Sa's condition, it was clear Formic was the key player entrenched with the Ti'hi. Sa had discovered Formic's secret and it had almost cost her life. Even still, she was not in the clear; still fighting for survival in the infirmary. Seeing her as she had been, Prazak vowed to make Formic pay for the injuries he had caused to the woman.

But the Empress would not allow it. Formic was to be brought before Tarina to answer for his crimes. Then, and only then, would justice be dealt to the Count. Prazak only hoped that whatever sentence the Empress gave, Prazak would be the one allowed to carry it out.

Returning his concentration back to the task at hand, Prazak signaled a halt to his two soldiers when they'd reached the top of the staircase that led to Formic's bed chamber. Marking and the other soldiers remained on the ground floor, already having started their search for evidence.

Quietly, he looked at Captain Picard and Counselor Troi. "Stay back. He could very well be armed and poised to strike."

Picard and Troi nodded.

Turning, Prazak nodded to the soldiers.

The two men shouldered into the double doors. The lock between the two buckled immediately as the men stormed into the room. Prazak was right behind them.

Count Formic was spread out on the large bed. But he wasn't alone. The moment the soldiers rushed into the room it was filled with startled and frightened shouts.

A woman was astride Formic. Another on the bed next to them. Caught up in fornication, the women shrieked as they looked back at the commotion. Formic too was startled. In a flash, he pushed the woman off his hips, sending her tumbling into her companion. Naked, the rotund nobleman rolled onto his side and reached down on the opposite side of the bed.

"Stop him!" Prazak ordered as he drew his sword.

The two soldiers were on the man in a heartbeat. They wrenched his arm back, causing the Count to shriek in pain.

"Unhand me!" Formic shouted. "You have no right to touch me!"

The soldiers ignored his protests. With force, they pulled him off the bed and forced him to kneel upon the floor. Each held one of the man's arms out to the sides.

Prazak was a bit surprised at the man's defiance. He'd always assumed Formic's will was as soft as his body; all bluster and no bite. But he was proving otherwise. Either that or he was a damn fine actor. He struggled against the soldiers' hold, but they were stronger than the pudgy man and held him firm.

"What is the meaning of this?" Formic barked, spittle flying from his lips. "You have no right to be here, General."

"I have every right to be here, Count," Prazak said. He kept his longsword out and in front of him. When Formic's eyes fell upon the sword, they shifted.

 _There's the fear._

"I've been sent to arrest you, Count Formic," Prazak stated as he strode by the kneeling prisoner. Reaching the corner of the bed where Formic had shoved his arm during the initial confrontation, Prazak found a small handheld crossbow hidden there. It was loaded and ready to be fired.

Again, Formic's eyes flashed. "I have a right to have that weapon for defense. And arrest? On what charges?"

Prazak ignored the naked man for the time being. Sheathing his sword, he picked up Formic's crossbow and quickly disabled the weapon. As he was setting it aside, he saw that Picard and Troi had entered the room. Their gazes fell upon Formic, but they quickly looked away, probably disturbed by his nakedness.

Prazak gave them a look, but turned his attention to the two women huddled together on Formic's bed. They had pulled the blanket up, covering themselves. Stepping closer, they shied away, so he held up his free hand to show he would not hurt them.

They were not nobles; probably members of Formic's staff or women he'd sent for from the taverns. Prazak frowned. Typical behavior of noblemen; looking down upon commoners while using them however they saw fit, usually in bed.

Both women's eyes were wide with fright.

"I won't harm you," Prazak offered comfortingly. He reached forward and took the wrist of the closest woman, the one who had been on top of Formic. He scowled at the fresh bruises he found there. Looking at their faces, he saw a number of bruises and marks as well. Formic clearly enjoyed being rough in the bedroom.

Letting go of the woman's wrist, he inclined his head at Formic without looking away from the two ladies. His unspoken question was clearly received. They both nodded a little.

"Counselor?" Prazak asked, looking back at the two Starfleet officers. "Can you help these ladies? Gather their clothes so they can dress?"

Troi nodded, moving to do as Andrej asked while managing to avoid looking towards the prisoner.

"This is ludicrous, General," Formic pleaded. Apparently he couldn't take the silence any longer. "What I do in my bedroom is my business. Not yours!"

"You feel you are justified in hitting women because you are nobility and they are not?" Prazak growled.

"That is not your concern!" Formic shot back.

"Then tell me why you hit the Lady Sa with enough force to possibly kill her? Did she discover your treason so you tried to silence her?" Prazak accused.

"You're insane, General! I am not a traitor! The Empress shall hear of this!"

"Yes, she shall," Prazak retorted. "I should parade you naked through the streets as I escort you to her!"

"Andrej."

Prazak turned. Marking, along with Worf, had appeared in the doorway. They held a large wooden chest between them. Prazak jerked his head. They moved forward. Captain Picard took a step out of the way.

A glance at Formic showed that for all his defiance, the Count was starting to sweat. He was nervous and his eyes were locked on the plain wooden chest.

It was carried to the end of the bed. When the two women were off of it and clothed, Prazak motioned for them to stand aside. When they were clear he nodded at Marking.

Lifting the chest, the stocky, American augment and the Klingon upended it, spilling the contents onto the bed. Formic whimpered as the clank and rattled of multiple coins spilled on the bed from the coffer. When it was empty, the two men dropped the wooden box carelessly to the floor.

Prazak stepped forward and pushed the contents around. Mixed in with the Sardis currency was the crude coinage of the Ti'hi.

Scowling, Prazak palmed a number of the coins. Looking back to Formic, he saw the beads of sweat on the man's body had thickened. He shifted nervously against the hold of his captors.

"You're being charged with treason, attempted murder and murder, Count Formic." With a snort, Prazak threw the coins at the kneeling man. They bounced off his bare chest and fat stomach, causing Formic to recoil.

When the Count said nothing, Prazak turned away, unable to keep looking at the nobleman. Picard was standing by, quiet and contemplative. The look on the Captain's face was difficult for Prazak to decipher, but he assumed the Captain did not approve of Prazak's tactics. He didn't really care. Not anymore.

Next he looked at Troi. She stood with the two women Formic had been in bed with. They were dressed, but still shied a little at Prazak's gaze. Their fright was clear on their faces and he could feel it in his mind. He knew at once they were not involved in Formic's treacherous schemes. He waved him over.

They came to him, as did Troi. Reaching down onto the bed, Prazak scooped up two handfuls of Sardis coins. Shaking them out, he made sure he had the same number of coins, and all Sardis coins, in each hand. He handed a pile each to the women. "For what he did to you."

The women were clearly aghast, never having seen such large amounts of money before. They breathed their thanks and departed. One of Marking's scouts went with them. Troi remained.

His money being given away riled Formic again. "You have no right to give them my money, Prazak!"

"Silence!" Prazak shouted back, causing Formic to cower again. In two long strides, Prazak was on the man. His hand found Formic's throat. Lifting the nobleman up, Prazak's move broke the hold of his soldiers, who appeared just as caught off guard by the General's sudden move as Formic and everyone else.

Formic's toes brushed against the ground as his hands shot up to his throat, wrapping around Prazak's hand. Prazak sneered as he eyed Formic up and down. His chubby, naked form convulsing with fear.

"You're a traitor, Formic," Prazak said. "Count yourself lucky, however, that the Empress wants to judge you as you confess the crimes you've committed against her and her people. Only her order stays my hand or else I'd be snapping your neck right here and leaving your naked, pathetic body to rot."

Prazak released the nobleman. Formic dropped to his knees as he gasped for breath. At once the soldiers had their hands on his arms again.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Prazak barked.

Formic shook his head. His whimpers became blubbers. He started to cry. "Forgive me, General. I am weak, but I meant no harm."

Formic's words made Prazak ill. Looking at his soldiers, he ordered, "Get him dressed. As much as he deserves to be shamed, he shall not go before the Empress naked and sniveling. When he is dressed, bind his hands and bring him to me in the foyer."

The men nodded. Marking spoke up. "I'll stay and oversee, Andrej. We'll collect up the coins as well."

"Thank you, General," Formic whined through his tears.

Prazak scowled again. "Do anything other than put your clothes on, Count, and I do mean anything and my men, on Colonel Marking's orders, shall execute you where you stand. Do I make myself clear?"

Formic's head bopped up and down rapidly. "I understand."

* * *

Thankful that he and his crew had been allowed entrance to the Great Hall this time, Captain Picard took in the proceedings with both interest and concern. Flanked by the rest of his team, which included Guinan, he watched carefully as the small assembled group took up positions within the Hall.

Even thought they'd only been on Sardis for a short number of days, Picard had quickly gained familiarity with not only the physical surroundings of the place, but also the people. With the exception of a few nobles, royal guards and soldiers, he knew all the people that were present as well as their positions within the hierarchical society. Only Zoja was absent; the cat still recovering from her wounds. To Picard it felt strange not seeing the beautiful creature at Prazak's side. He imagined Prazak probably felt the same way in regards his companion's absence.

Picard had attended quite a number of tribunals over the course of his Starfleet career, but just like the formal dinner, each one was always unique.

The accused had been brought in and forced to stand before the throne. His hands were bound in front of him. The guards had moved off, leaving the Count to stand alone. But they were ever present, poised to strike if need be.

Not that Jean-Luc thought the Count was likely to act out. Formic would have a hell of a time reaching the Empress and even if he tried to make some foolish and desperate attempt to attack his leader he'd have to go through not only the Empress' royal guardsmen, but Prazak himself.

Standing at the base and to the right of the raised dais, Prazak was as imposing as ever. He had not yet changed into his so-called battle armor since young Tega had not been allowed into the proceedings. Yet, even in his plain white plate with dark clothing beneath, thick cloak and accompany armament, Prazak was as menacing as ever. Even from where Picard stood he could tell that Formic was refusing to even glance in the General's direction.

Prazak's two augment friends had joined him there, just as Picard's own officer, and Guinan, stood with him.

Tarina occupied the throne. The teenage ruler glared down at the Count with a look of pure disgust. Picard wondered if the young ruler had ever had to judge one of her own that stood accused of such serious crimes. It was not something he'd wish on any person.

The hall was deadly silent except for the constant quivers and snivels produced from Formic. His defiant behavior had vanished the moment he'd been led into the Great Hall.

"Counselor? Anything?" Picard whispered over his shoulder.

"Just an overall aura of fear from the Count," Troi replied. "And for all his fear, I have yet to sense a single shred of regret from him."

"Traitorous dog," Worf snarled.

"It's not our place to judge, Lieutenant," Picard reminded quietly. "We're only here to see if he knows where Doctor Crusher is being held."

Picard heard Worf grunt, but other than that, his Chief of Security kept quiet.

Tarina cleared her throat, drawing Picard's attention back towards the proceedings.

"Count Formic, you stand accused of multiple crimes," Tarina announced authoritatively. "Are you prepared to confess?"

Formic, head low, continued to snivel. His body started to shake, but he kept his eyes downcast.

Tarina motioned to Prazak.

He went and stood behind the prisoner. Formic's shaking turned into full on convulsions.

Placing his hands on the nobleman's shoulders, Prazak forced the man down to his knees. "Look at your Empress and answer her."

"He's absolutely terrified," Deanna whispered.

Picard simply nodded. The Count's fear was plain as day.

It took the Count a few moments, but he eventually composed himself enough to raise his head. Prazak stepped away, but not all the way back to where he'd been.

"Are you prepared to confess?" Tarina repeated. "I shall not ask again."

Formic's head bobbed up and down. Using his sleeve, he wiped at his nose and cheeks. "Show mercy, Your Highness. I did not mean for any of this to happen."

Tarina appeared unimpressed. "You conspired with the enemy. You sold them explosives. You killed a fellow citizen and noble and attacked a pregnant woman. Why should I show you mercy, sir?"

"I didn't know the Lady Sa was pregnant!"

"Irrelevant," Tarina mused.

"What happened was purely accidental, Your Highness," Formic babbled.

"What did happen?" she pressed.

Formic gulped. He started speaking slowly, "I was prepared to sever all ties with the Ti'hi, but they contacted me and demanded more explosives. I told them it was too dangerous. They didn't care." After a pause to catch his breath, Formic rambled on, the words gushing out. "Two creatures were sent through an underground access point. When they arrived at my residence, they threatened to kill me if I didn't comply. I had no choice, Your Highness! I went with them. They had come up near the Field of Honor. Baron Hurrey and Lady Sa stumbled upon us before we'd finished. I tried my best to steer them off, but Hurrey was insistent. One of the Ti'hi shot him with a crossbow. I didn't know the creature would do that! I couldn't stop it. I hit the Lady Sa because I panicked. I was scared. The Ti'hi wanted to take their bodies, but I refused to let them do such a thing. After they'd left, I hid the bodies in some hedges. I didn't know Lady Sa was still alive."

"We did find the Baron's body under some hedge brush by the Warrior Ruler and his wife's monuments, Your Highness," Herschel reported.

Tarina nodded once to the German augment. "Now tell me all you know, Count. Like my father, I too can be merciful, but you must prove why you deserve that which you've denied others."

Formic visibly gulped. "I was greedy, Your Highness. And scared. I got in over my head because I was scared. Scared that we could not defeat the Ti'hi if they invaded."

That got a reaction from the audience. Picard watched as Prazak scowled and the royal guards and soldiers alike shared disgusted looks with each other.

"How dare you speak ill of your own," Prazak snarled.

"I know, it was wrong to doubt," Formic said. "But it is the truth. I doubted because I was afraid. And the Ti'hi Chieftain promised he would spare the nobility."

"And you believed the words of a Ti'hi?" Prazak laughed humorlessly.

Tarina held up a hand and Prazak backed off. It wasn't the first time Picard had witnessed such behavior between the two. Prazak really was that loyal to the girl.

"Tell me about this Chieftain," Tarina stated. "What are his plans? Where is he holding the Starfleet doctor?"

Formic shook his head. "That I do not know, Your Highness. They've constructed a massive networks of tunnels and caverns all around us. Under the mountains and the plains. They could be anywhere. All I know is he plans to flood the city with his forces to overwhelm us and take the Tower from you, Empress. He wants to personally kill General Prazak and enslave you."

"And you were willing to help him do it," Tarina stated evenly.

Formic's only response came in the form of more snivels.

Prazak rolled his eyes. "How long has this been going on? How long have you been working against us?"

Formic's head sagged again. "Too long. I am sorry."

"What of the explosives you sold to this Chieftain?" Tarina wanted to know.

"I thought it was for the tunnels. That is the truth," Formic looked back up, "but he may use them to breach the wall as well."

"He'll kill half his own forces in such an attempt," Prazak stated.

"He does not value life like we do, General," Formic mumbled.

"We?" Prazak sneered in response.

Formic didn't reply to that.

A brief pause gave Jean-Luc a chance to interject. Addressing Tarina he said, "Your Highness, are we sure the Count can't tell us more about Doctor Crusher? He may not know where she is, but why is she being held? And what is Dickerson's role in all of this."

Tarina looked to her prisoner. "Answer him, Count."

Formic exhaled. "I do not know why she was taken. The human man was left for you to find so you would bring him back to the city. Just like you did. He was supposed to then contact me with the final invasion plans from Baut. Errr, Baut is the Chieftain. Baut never liked taking the risk of sending Ti'hi in to contact me, hence why he used the human. He could blend in easier with our people. But instead the human man fled and took your doctor with him. Why? I do not know. I think he is unstable. The few times I saw or interacted with him, I was sure there was something wrong with him. Baut let the man believe he was of some importance, other than being a spy. So Baut allowed him to be in charge of some of the lesser Ti'hi forces from time to time. It was the human that ordered the attack on La'Trec, not Baut. After that, Baut was enraged and resigned the human back the role of acting as a spy. I'm surprised Baut didn't kill him outright. I was surprised when the two Ti'hi showed up at my residence as I was used to dealing with the human."

"And the Ti'hi listened to Dickerson?" Prazak asked.

"Yes," Formic answered. "Like I said, I think he is insane."

"Which means he is unpredictable," Picard said.

"And unpredictable men can be extremely dangerous men," Prazak replied with a look towards Picard.

"All the more reason for us to free Doctor Crusher."

"We shall do all we can, Captain," Tarina said. She looked back at Formic. "Do you have anything else to say for yourself, Count?"

Formic lowered his head for just a second before looking back up at Tarina. "No, Your Highness. Again, all I ask if for you to show mercy. Just like The Kindly One."

"The Warrior Ruler would execute you where you stand," Prazak growled.

"And my grandfather would have been justified in doing so," Tarina interrupted. "You are clearly guilty of the crimes you've been accused of, Count. Perhaps even more that we haven't yet discovered."

The Count's shoulders sagged.

"Look at me, sir," Tarina ordered.

Slowly, Formic did as she commanded. He tried to appear strong, but the fear was overflowing again. Picard didn't need Counselor Troi to tell him such; it was shining in Formic's eyes.

"I find you guilty as charged, Count Formic," Tarina declared. "As punishment for your crimes I am hereby striping you and any of your name of your noble status. As such, your lands, properties, and all titles are forfeited to the throne. The contents of your coffers shall be utilized to compensate your staff as well as pay restitution to Baron Hurrey's family. Anything that remains shall be placed into the throne's treasury. Effective immediately. As of this moment, the Formic name is no longer a noble family. I shall spare your life, however you shall be imprisoned within the Tower's cells for the remainder of that life."

Picard sucked in a breath through his teeth as he listened.

At that moment, Prazak stepped forward again, standing to the side of Formic. Picard's eyes widened when the General drew his sword and placed the blade at the base of Formic's neck. He looked up to his Empress and waited.

Tarina raised a hand. "If you do not accept this sentence, you shall be executed at once."

Formic was clearly not ready to die for his cause. Nodding vigorously he said, "I accept the sentence, Your Highness. I accept without refute."

Tarina placed her hand back down on the arm of her throne. Prazak stepped back and sheathed his sword. Picard realized he'd been holding his breath. He'd been half expecting Prazak to kill the traitor no matter what.

But Prazak didn't.

"Remove him from my Hall," Tarina remarked easily.

Reaching down, Prazak jerked the disgraced man to his feet. He didn't say anything, instead holding onto Formic, who was once again bubbling and crying, only long enough for two soldiers to arrive. Prazak shoved Formic into their waiting arms. They dragged him away, the room once again filled with no other sounds than Formic's crying and the heavy footfalls of the soldiers that ushered him to his fate.

After Formic was gone, Tarina called out. "Captain Picard."

Picard turned his attention to the young ruler. "Yes, Your Highness."

"I promise you we shall continue to question Formic in regards to your doctor. We will get her back for you some way."

"I have the utmost faith in your statement, Your Highness." Picard looked to Prazak. "And in your abilities, General."

Prazak nodded.

"Together we will see this to the end," Picard said, his eyes locked with the man's that only days before Picard had threatened to detain. Now they had to work together. Fight together.

"Together," Prazak breathed.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

 **I made some edits to the conversation between Prazak and Troi in order to clarify some things. I did not intend for the conversation to come out sounding the way it did (in regards to Troi and Riker). I hope this clears some things up. More will be discussed later in the fic as well.**

* * *

Lips pursed, Beverly sucked in a deep breath while scanning the assembled group of Ti'hi. No. Not just a group. A battle formation. And an extremely large one at that. It was difficult to tell from where she stood next to Dickerson, but there appeared to be thousands of the purple creatures present in the vast underground cavern.

"How many?" she breathed quietly.

Dickerson was concentrating on securing a torn up saddle to an animal's back. He paused and looked over his shoulder to answer, his eyes scanning the crowd. "I don't know. At least two thousand. Probably more."

"How many soldiers does Prazak have?"

Dickerson shrugged. "Not enough. Nonetheless, Baut is being cautious. He's made other arrangements as well."

"Other arrangements?"

Dickerson snickered. "Ti'hi will not be the only ones that spill Sardis blood today. Prazak and his Empress have many enemies."

"It'll be a massacre." Beverly sighed. Her heart was heavy.

With a rough tug, the deranged Starfleet man cinched the saddle into place. "Not my problem."

Crusher's eyes bulged a little. "How can you be so callous? Regardless of what's happened to you how can you support this? This slaughter?"

"I have a mission and I plan to complete that mission," Dickerson replied evenly.

"Don't you get it, Matthew? There is no mission. None! Whoever sent you here lied to you. They used you as a scapegoat."

"That's not true," he hissed.

"Isn't it? Why haven't they come to retrieve you? How long did you have the beacon activated? The Klingon transmitter? Yet no one came!"

Dickerson glared at her. "You did."

"We had no idea about any of this! We are not your retrieval team," she countered. Even though she knew deep down that her efforts were futile, she had to keep trying. Keep hoping there was some sane piece of Dickerson somewhere inside his damaged mind. "But we can be. If we sneak out of here. Right now. We can warn Prazak and the Empress, meet back up with Captain Picard and leave. We can get you help, Matthew."

"The only help I need is retrieving Prazak's blood." He reached into a pouch on the saddle. Slowly he pulled a dagger from within. The hilt was wrapped with some sort of worn down leather and the blade was thin and long. It wasn't decorative at all, but it was wickedly evil in appearance. "However, it is clear to me, Doctor," he went on, "that you will be no help in that regard, so I'll have to do it myself. This dagger is sharp enough to pierce his armor plates. It will ensure he suffers as he bleeds out."

With that, she knew there was no hope left for him. Shaking her head, she sighed heavily. "He'll kill you, Matthew. There's no way you can get the best of him. You've seen how he fights. He's the better man." She meant her last statement in more ways than one.

Dickerson spat. "He may be stronger and a better swordsman, but I have something that he doesn't."

Eyebrows arched, she stared at him.

"I have tenacity. I have determination. I also have patience. I'll let Baut wear him down. And when Baut is dead, because we both know Prazak will kill Baut, then I'll be poised to strike. I have no qualms about stabbing a man when he's down."

"You also have no honor as the Klingons would say," Beverly retorted.

"Lots of honorable dead men on the battlefields of the galaxy," he chuckled.

Beverly imagined the disgust she felt, that had in fact just multiplied, for her captor was plain as day on her face. However, Dickerson never saw it. Bellowing shouts echoed through the chamber just then, drawing the attention of both captive and captor towards the commotion.

At the head of the formations was the Chieftain Baut. Speaking in his native tongue, Baut addressed his assembled army. Beverly couldn't understand the Ti'hi leader's words, but the growing excitement, coupled with the loudly increasing chants and snarls from the gathered Ti'hi horde was enough for the doctor. It was clear.

Sardis was about to go to war.

* * *

A peaceful calm blanketed the city. It wasn't the first time Deanna had experienced such a thing just prior to a major battle engagement. Where one might expect frayed nerves and scared, wide-eyed faces, Deanna had found the opposite.

Sardis was preparing for the likely attack, but the chaos had not yet struck. Walking through the snow covered streets, heading back towards the Tower, she overheard a number of different conversations coming from the clusters of soldiers and civilians. Most were casual. She did hear a few grumbling in regards to the news of the nobleman turned traitor and his subsequent arrest and sentence. A few soldiers boasted that they'd have wanted to be the one to swing the sword if the Empress had decreed it, yet none spoke outwardly that they disapproved of the sentence. Deanna assumed some must have felt that way, they were just keeping it to themselves.

Prazak had departed the Great Hall shortly after the tribunal. Riker, Worf, and Guinan had stayed with Captain Picard and the remaining two augments, yet Deanna needed to clear her head. So much had happened that she was having difficulty processing it all.

Even before things started to unravel, Deanna had known that her relationship with Prazak was never going to last. There was no way it could. He was either going to be detained by the Captain or remain on the planet. And Deanna couldn't abandon Starfleet for a man she had just met. Starfleet was her life. It meant everything to her. Just as this snow-covered planet had become Andrej's life. It just wasn't possible.

Yet, she still felt unsettled. So she had headed to the infirmary, thinking that was where she'd find Prazak. Doctor Belan had informed Deanna that Prazak had been there but no longer. Lady Sa was resting, so Prazak had let her be.

Deanna had thanked the doctor and departed.

Now back in the Tower, she made her way to Prazak's quarters. If he wasn't there, she'd probably give up and head back to the others. She didn't want to be caught alone if and when the attack came.

When she reached his door, her stomach started to churn. Her mind went blank, all thoughts of what she might have wanted to say quickly vacating her head. Part of her mind told her to leave, just walk away. That's what would happen anyway, yes? Why make things worse? The man wasn't coming with her and she wasn't staying. So why bother? He now had a child on the way to think about. That would be his priority once he defeated his enemies.

Deanna was knocking before knew what she was doing. Even then her mind told her to flee, to leave the man alone.

She knocked again.

Just when she thought he might not be inside, the door opened.

Prazak stood before her. He'd stripped off his armor and weapons and was wearing fresh clothes. His damp hair and freshly trimmed stubble told Deanna that he must have just gotten done cleaning up.

Even after showering he looked tired. Exhausted.

"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you," she said quietly.

"You're not," he replied immediately. Stepping aside he let her in.

The door closed. Moving by her, Prazak went and sat on the couch where Zoja was stretched out over almost half of the piece of furniture. The cat raised her head a little and mewed, her eyes ice blue.

Deanna took a seat in one of the chair facing the augment. She spied the closed box that contained Prazak's extract at the edge of the low table between them. "How is Zoja's recovery coming along?"

Prazak scratched the cat's head between her ears which resulted in a deep rumbling of contented purrs from the animal. "She'll be back to her old self in no time."

"That is good to hear," Deanna stated truthfully. She liked Zoja.

Prazak nodded a little. "Why have you come here?"

Deanna sighed. "Straight to the point as always."

Prazak shrugged. He lifted his gaze from his feline companion to stare at Deanna. "I don't have much time. I need to be out there. With my soldiers. With my people."

Deanna folded her hands on her lap. "I guess I wanted to see how you're doing. A lot has happened in a short amount of time. It can be overwhelming."

"I'm sorry for what I've put your through," he said.

It wasn't what she was expecting to hear. "You have nothing to apologize for, Andrej."

"Don't I?" His eyes remained focused on Deanna's. "I hurt you. I led you on."

Deanna lips curled into a little smile. "We both knew what we shared wasn't going to last. And I think it's quite clear that you didn't know about Sa's pregnancy."

Prazak's head move from side to side. "I didn't. But it definitely changes things."

"Do you love her?"

Now it was Prazak's turn to sigh. "I'm not sure."

"Aren't you?" she pressed.

Prazak cocked his head to the side. "Are you reading my mind?"

Deanna smiled again. "Not at all. But I can sense your conflicted emotions."

Zoja continued to purr as her master went silent, gently stroking the animal's soft fur. Deanna waited patiently till he was ready to speak. "I suppose," he said as he looked back to Deanna, "in a way, I do love her. I mean, why else would I continue to be with her, even thru all our struggles as a couple? Truthfully, I just didn't want to admit it to myself. It's not easy, you know. Not aging. I've seen a lot of good people come and go over the years. Watched them grow old. Witnessed them pass."

"And you didn't want to experience that with someone you loved," Deanna guessed.

"Pretty selfish, huh?" Prazak chaffed.

It was, in a way, but Deanna didn't comment on it. Instead she replied, "Is being alone any better?"

"You tell me," Prazak responded. "Commander Riker loves you. That is obvious. Yet you are no longer together. You chose to be alone when the man you love, because I know you do love him, is right there. We really aren't very different when you think about it, Deanna."

"You're right," she admitted. "But my relationship with Will is...complicated. We've known each other a very long time. We've had our struggles. We still do. Maybe that's part of what drew you and I together. Even for the few times we shared. Perhaps we needed one another to show us the one's we really loved. Even if it hurts."

Prazak shrugged. "Maybe. I think you should go back to him."

Deanna pressed her eyes shut and took a number of deep breaths. "Like I said, its complicated. Its not as easy as you make it sound. Perhaps one day we'll be together. But right now...I just don't know."

When she opened her eyes again, Prazak was studying her. "I guess in the end, whatever is meant to be will be."

"What will you do?" Deanna asked quietly. "Will you go back to Sa?"

"Like you, Deanna, I don't know at this point. I mean, its the responsible thing to do, yes, but it'll be hard."

"You have a child on the way. A child that's going to need a father. And Sa will need you as well."

He locked his gaze on her again. The intensity of his stare made her heart flutter. "I will do what I have to for not only my unborn child, but Sardis. And your Doctor Crusher. I have not forgotten about her."

"You've gotten off the idea of sacrificing yourself I hope," Deanna pushed. "Especially now."

"I will fight this Chieftain Baut," Prazak confirmed. "I'm sure I can beat him."

"And what happens after that?"

"Hopefully," Prazak said, "his forces retreat or surrender. We get your doctor back and you leave. That would be the best case scenario."

"And worst case?"

"Baut wins," he said bluntly. "And we all die."

"That won't happen," she whispered.

Prazak didn't answer. He just continued to stroke Zoja's head and neck. Silence eventually took over. Deanna found her eyes wandering, searching the man's living area. She didn't focus on any one thing in particular, instead taking in the décor, the crackling of the fireplace, the pleasant fragrance of some burning incense over the fire that mixed perfectly with the scent of the chilled air that wafted through the windows. She found it all quite calming.

Deanna sighed.

"What?" Prazak asked in response.

Lips turning upward into a small smile, Deanna replied, "Even though we've only been here a very short time I won't forget this place. Take away the war and its quite peaceful, albeit freezing."

Prazak broke out into a grin. "I never thought I'd get used to the cold. It's a different type of cold than back in Czechoslovakia. But eventually I learned to deal with it."

"To the point you spar shirtless in the snow." Deanna winked.

Prazak appeared to slightly blush. "Sometimes."

"Another thing I'll miss," Deanna mused, "is those muscles."

Throwing his head back, Prazak burst out a laugh. "You flatter me, Deanna."

"Don't act like you're not proud of that physique; those abs," Deanna quipped. "Using them to your advantage."

"Now, Deanna," he started, but stopped, clearly at a loss on how to defend himself.

"See," she wiggled a finger at him, "a woman knows."

Prazak raised his hands. "Guilty as charged, I suppose."

That caused them both to break out in laughter. Zoja snorted, clearly put off by the sudden outbursts, but eventually she set her head back down and purred.

When the laughs came to their natural end, Deanna wiped at her eyes and stood. "I should be getting back. Like you said, you have to go to your soldiers."

He stood. Rounding the table, he met her and walked her to the door. "I'll be near the gates or atop the wall. I suggest you and your comrades either stay below ground in the military complex or go to the Tower. Captain Tristin and his royal guards will be there with the Empress. They will protect you."

At the door, Deanna nodded. When Prazak reached out to press the release, she stopped him. Hand on his, she drew his gaze back to her. When their eyes met, she leaned in, knowing it would be the last time.

Prazak's hands went to her face, cupping her jaw and tilting her head up to his. When their lips met, Deanna moaned, drawing an equally passionate growl from him. And when he pressed harder, looking for entry, Deanna opened up to him. The kiss deepened and for those few, passion filled moments, Deanna dismissed all her other cares and concerns, choosing to just enjoy the moment. Her hands found and rested on the outer edges of his hips.

As the kiss came to its natural end, Deanna sighed, leaning back and dropping her hands. Prazak's thumbs gently caressed her jawline a few seconds longer before he let go and hit the release button for the door.

The door opened. "I'll miss you, Deanna Troi." he smiled.

"And I'll miss you, Andrej Prazak." she stated in return.

She shot him one last intimate look then stepped out into the passageway. When the door closed behind her, she leaned back against it. The butterflies in her stomach had returned, but where the previous feeling was one wracked with nervousness, this was one of contentment.

She stayed against the door for a few moments, wanting to ensure the jelly like feeling in her legs dissipated before she stepped away. She was there longer than expected, but eventually she pushed off the door and headed back down the passageway to meet up with Captain Picard and the others.

* * *

Dawn was approaching. The snow had stopped sometime in the night, but now it was back; the thick, fat flakes covering everything in a layer of pure white, reflecting the little light from lamps and torches to create an eerie, yet exquisite sight.

Picard tramped through the powdery substance. A sense of sadness came over him as he made his way to the wall. Sadness because he knew the peaceful, beautiful calm that blanketed this city was about to be shattered by war, bloodshed and death. He wished there was something he could do to prevent it, but as much as he'd already violated the Prime Directive on this mission, there was no getting around this aspect of the order. He couldn't interfere. And the only reason he carried a weapon on him now, that all his officers carried weapons, was for self-defense and in case he needed it to free Beverly.

 _Beverly. I'm so sorry._

"For a place so cold, it is stunning."

Pulled from his internal thoughts, he glanced at Guinan. He'd been so wrapped up in his own head he'd almost forgotten that she was with him.

"That's true," Picard agreed. "However, I fear that by the end of this day that will be forgotten."

"If the enemies of Sardis attack," Guinan pointed out.

"I can feel it in the air," he said. "It's going to happen."

"Agreed."

The duo fell silent as they made their way to the wall. Groups of people were stationed throughout the city. Civilians and nobles, intermixed with the regular military personnel and city guards, listened intently to the instructions of the military leaders and surrounded them. Some looked scared; others calm, but they all looked determined. Determined and proud. They'd defend their city, their livelihood. Their very lives. Picard was certain.

Reaching the wall, they stepped into the waiting lift along with three soldiers. The ride to the top was sullen. None of the soldiers spoke; not even to each other. When they reached the top, Picard and Guinan went left while the soldiers headed off to the right.

The wind was strong so high up, forcing Picard to pull the hood of his Starfleet cold weather jacket over his head. Guinan did likewise with her coat.

They found Prazak at a point almost dead center of the gigantic structure. Picard noted that the augment had changed into his black armor. Dressed all in black, with only the deep red sigil on the chest plate, Prazak was truly menacing in appearance. Against the backdrop of the snow, Prazak's appearance brought to Picard's mind images of literary characters of old. Evil incarnate. A harbinger of Death. But Prazak wasn't evil, Picard had come to that conclusion some time ago. Yet, the augment's enemies believed otherwise. Picard knew Prazak's tactic. Fear could be as powerful a weapon as the longsword on Prazak's hip.

The General wasn't wearing the helm. Picard didn't see it anywhere near the man, so he assumed the boy from the village still had it. Perhaps back at the Tower. But when Prazak donned the piece, the look would be complete. A often used quote from Earth flashed in Picard's mind.

 _Now I am become death..._

Prazak, speaking to two other men turned when Picard and Guinan arrived. "Do you feel it, Captain?"

Picard's brow furrowed. "Feel it, General?"

"The trembles," Prazak stated. "Baut is coming."

As if on cue, a cusp of wind blew across the wall, bringing with it the dreadful sound of distant warhorns. Even with the jumbled mass of low clouds, the sky grayed with each passing moment and across the plains Picard watched as the Ti'hi emerged from the snowy woodline.

Prazak handed optics to Picard. Lifting the device to his eyes, Jean-Luc scanned the field below.

Gangly, purple creatures filtered out onto the plains and quickly fell into battle formations. Rows and rows of armor clad and weapon wielding creatures covered the white open land outside of Sardis' wall. At the head of each formation was a creature holding a tattered banner alongside a Ti'hi mounted atop one of the furry, snarling beasts they rode into battle.

A divide had been left between the groups and up the middle road Baut. Large and imposing, just like the first time they'd encountered the beast, Baut was a terrifying sight to look upon. Wearing armor, he held the reins to his mount in one hand and in the other the massive warhammer. Picard could also see that the Ti'hi had a large, gruesome looking double sided battle-axe strapped across his back.

Baut wasn't alone. Astride another beast was an old Ti'hi woman who Picard assumed was the shaman Prazak had set free.

On another of the mangy beasts was Dickerson. With Beverly in the saddle in front of him. Picard could see she was bound and gagged. Relief washed over him at that moment; she was alive.

"Beverly," he whispered.

As more and more of the creatures emerged, Picard could sense the change in demeanor of the soldiers on the wall. They were getting nervous. All except Prazak. The augment, having lowered his own optics from his eyes, just stared out across the plains, his face an emotionless stone mask.

One of the soldiers next to the General stuttered. "There's so many."

"Be brave, Timor," Prazak responded; his tone fatherly. "You are a warrior. Just like your father and sister before you."

The Ti'hi formation stopped. A single warhorn blew then all went silent.

"What are they waiting for?" someone asked.

"How do we get Beverly back?" Picard inquired.

"Baut will attempt to attack the gates," Prazak said. His eyes never left his foe down on the field. "We've fortified the exterior of the wall to make his attempts more difficult. He's stopped outside of the range of our bolts, but he knows he can send more of his forces forward to overwhelm the wall faster than we can reload."

"Can you reach her?" Picard pleaded.

At that Prazak looked towards Picard. His face was hard, but displayed a sympathetic look as well.

"Telepathically, I mean," Picard clarified.

"For non-telepaths and empaths it is difficult," Prazak explained. "Usually I would have to be in physical contact with the person."

"Can you try? Please?" Guinan added for which Picard was thankful.

Prazak head slowly nodded up and down. "I'll try."

Picard watched as the augment looked back towards the horde assembled at his doorstep. Taking a number of deep breaths, Prazak sighed then began to speak. Picard imagined the words were more for his and Guinan's benefit than being necessary to make a connection.

"Doctor," Prazak began, "do not be frightened. I am not going to hurt you. Your Captain...your friend Jean-Luc...is here with me. Do not speak aloud. Speak in your mind and I will hear you. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Picard waited for what felt like an eternity. His heart felt like it would burst from his chest with each painful beat.

"She is scared," Prazak said.

"You reached her?" Picard exhaled.

Prazak nodded. "She is relatively unhurt. She says not to worry about her. To concentrate on Dickerson and Baut."

"Tell her we're going to get her back," Picard instructed.

Prazak compiled. "Doctor...Beverly...we are going to save you. I swear it. On my life. Stay strong. This is almost over."

More excruciating moments of silence.

"She says hurry," Prazak relayed.

"We will," Picard whispered. It took all he had not to charge back down the wall and run to her. Picard always prided himself in his level-headedness, in his ability to control his emotions even in the gravest of scenarios. But this was proving difficult. From what he'd seen of the Ti'hi and what he'd learned of Dickerson, Picard knew he wouldn't be able to rest easily until Beverly was back with him. Again he found himself envious of Data and the android's lack of emotions.

Picard looked towards the sky. Out there was his ship. His home. And hundreds of people that counted on him every day to keep them safe. He yearned to return to the _Enterprise_. To leave this dreadful planet and its seemingly endless war. But he couldn't. Not yet. Not without Beverly. And not without a solution to Prazak and Dickerson.

Prazak was speaking again. "Do you know what Baut plans? How will he get inside?"

The questions were a bit off putting to Jean-Luc, but he couldn't blame Prazak. He'd probably do the same thing if such an opportunity arose. Counselor Troi had provided plenty of tactical observations over the years by using her abilities. Prazak was just doing the same.

But when Prazak's brow furrowed, Picard became nervous.

"What is it?"

Prazak ignored him. "What do you mean by others? Yes, I know you're scared. I promise I will save you, Beverly. Who are these others?"

"General," Picard started.

Prazak sucked in a breath. "No."

Prazak finally turned. He shouted a string of commands to his men down the line. He waved his hand. "Timor, come with me. Captain, Guinan, likewise, follow me. We need to link up with General Herschel at the base. Marking is…"

A serious of explosion cut Prazak off midsentence and shook the entire city, including the wall. Picard reached out and grabbed Guinan's arm, stopping her from losing her footing.

"What the hell?" Prazak growled.

All eyes turned inward on the city. Smoke and flames filled the sky in the distance beyond the Tower. Mentally, Picard recalled the layout of Sardis as best as he could and ascertained the explosions had come from inside or very near the nobles district.

More explosions boomed, jarring Picard's teeth and his thoughts. Those ones seemed to be closer to the Empress' Tower.

"Damn. I should have known," Prazak growled.

"What's going on?" Picard demanded with a shout.

"Baut," Prazak spat.

As if to confirm, Prazak's communication device started to squawk. Picard could make out the voice of Colonel Marking as well as shouting in the background. He thought he heard Riker and Worf and the distinct sounds of combat. The battle had already begun.

"Andrej!" Marking yelled. "Explosions are going off all over here in the east. That bastard Formic must have planted them! Ti'hi have circumvented our sealed tunnels and are pouring in from others. They're flooding the city."

"Send forces to the sea wall, John," Prazak relayed.

"What? Why?"

"Corq pirates are on the way."

"Hell," Marking grumbled before the connection ended.

"The devil Baut," Prazak explained with a hard look to Picard, "his own people fear water. They won't cross it. So we've never fortified the sea wall. He hired Corq pirates. He's forcing me to divide my forces. Creating chaos."

The look only last a minute before Prazak tore his gaze away to look back across the plains. Picard did the same. Through the optics, Picard saw the Ti'hi leader was smiling. Smiling and the way his body moved, he was also laughing.

Prazak drew his sword. Raising it, he shouted to his soldiers. "Hold the wall. Fire as fast as you can when they are within range. They must not breach the gates! The names of past warriors are etched upon this very wall. Fight for them! Fight for those that still live! The Warrior Ruler gave us freedom. That freedom shall not die today! Fight for Sardis!"

A chorus of cheers and shouts ran the length of the wall, sending shivers down Picard's spine.

As the soldiers readied themselves and their stations, Prazak looked to Picard and Guinan. "Timor, you're with me. Captain, Guinan, let's go end this. Now."

The augment didn't wait for a response. He ran towards the lift, forcing Picard, Guinan, and the young soldier Timor to sprint to keep up.

* * *

Ears ringing, Riker swung his sword at the snarling Ti'hi that charged him. Cutting down the creature, Will spun, ready to strike as needed.

He and Worf were with Colonel Marking and his scouts. Stationed near the Empress' Tower, the explosions had rattled them, catching them off guard. Almost immediately afterwards Ti'hi started pouring in from all around, cutting down confused and disoriented men and women as they did.

As far as Riker could see soldiers, city guards, civilians, and nobles regrouped to battle the advancing army. No longer separated by their status, they all fought for the same thing. Survival.

Troi was in the Tower with Empress Tarina and for that Riker was thankful. He knew she could hold her own in a fight, but the bloodlust of the Ti'hi and the gruesome style of combat was more than Riker believed anyone should have to experience. Especially the woman he loved.

And love Troi he did. And if he survived today, no, when he survived today, he swore he'd remind her of that love.

An axe wielding Ti'hi barreled into him, knocking Riker from his feet. The ground was both soft and hard at the same time. Head bouncing, Riker managed to raise his sword at the last possible second, blocking the death blow the creature tried to deliver.

Spots encroached on his vision as Riker strained against the Ti'hi's force. From the corner of his eye, he saw a flash. His ears filled with the all too familiar growl of Worf's battle cry. A moment later, the Ti'hi's head flew from its body, severed in one blow from Worf's attack.

Exhaling, Riker shuddered while seeing the Ti'hi's headless corpse collapse to the ground next to him. Worf had his hand on Will's arm then, pulling him back to his feet.

"Commander."

"Thanks, Mister Worf," Riker huffed.

The fighting continued all around them. Colonel Marking slashed his way to the two men. "Come with me," he yelled before ramming his sword through the gut of another enemy.

"Where are we going?" Will shouted.

"Invaders," Marking replied. Even through the fighting his breathing was steady. "At the sea wall. Corq pirates. Criminals with no honor. We have to drive the rats back into the sea."

Riker took only a few short seconds to regain his composure before he nodded.

Worf's snarling lips curled upward. "Today is a good day to die!"

Marking grinned. "Damn. I like you, Klingon."

* * *

"Your Highness, please reconsider." Tarina's advisor pleaded.

Troi stood by as the young ruler emerged into the Tower's main foyer wearing elegant armor and carrying a sword. Captain Tristin and his guards accompanied her. In addition to their weapons, they also carried large shields. Shields depicting the Empress' coat of arms.

The young boy Tega was also present. He stood with Troi, holding Prazak's helm. The armor piece was large and appeared to be as heavy as it was frightful. But the boy held firm. Prazak had charged Tega with guarding it for him and the boy was clearly determined to carry out Prazak's order to the end.

"I will not stay locked up in this tower while my people fight and die for me, advisor," Tarina responded.

"General Prazak said,-" the advisor started.

"I know what my General said," Tarina interrupted coolly. "And he is not going to die for me either. Not without me fighting as well. I am the Warrior Ruler's granddaughter. His warrior blood runs through my veins. I shall no longer sit idle as the very way of life he fought for, that my father solidified, is destroyed."

"Please wear your helm, Your Highness," Tristin stated. One of the guardsmen stepped forward to hand her a helm. Just like the armor she wore, it was both beautiful and functional. Unlike Prazak's black armor and death's head helm, Tarina's was bright and bore the belora flower symbols of Sardis. Her sword was smaller too, but just as finely crafted as the rest of her attire. To Troi, the young Empress looked as completely comfortable in battle garb as she did in her elegant gowns.

Tarina took the helm from the waiting guard, but she did not put it on right away. Her eyes met Troi's. "Counselor Troi, I am sorry that you and your people have been caught up in our war."

Troi frowned. "I'm sorry that war has come to your beautiful lands, Your Highness."

"As am I," the teen stated. "Yet, it ends today. One way or another."

"We'll defend the Tower," Tristin motioned to the guards. They hurried to the door. "But Your Highness, please stay with me and the guards. Do not let the Ti'hi encircle you."

Tarina smiled. "I don't plan to, Captain Tristin."

Troi watched the Empress don the helm. Clearing her throat, Deanna said, "I'll need a sword as well."

"Counselor?" Tristin questioned.

"If I ever want to see my home again, I'll need to fight. The rest of my colleagues are doing that as we speak. Help me see my home again by allowing me to help save yours."

Unable to see the woman's face, Troi couldn't tell if Tarina actually smiled. But the way her eyes shone through the eye holes of the helm made Troi believe the Empress had done just that.

"Give her a sword," the woman ordered.

A sword was handed over immediately. Troi took it without hesitation.

"Now, Counselor," Tarina stated. "Let us fight together. Side by side."

"Side by side." Troi nodded.

* * *

When the lift touched down Prazak was met with the distant sounds of battle. And the weather had changed. The dark sky no longer dumped snow upon Sardis, but instead spit down cold sleet and rain. The droplets were like bullets, stinging his face and blackening his already bleak mood. Rain was never an ideal weather condition for war.

He was met by Herschel and a sergeant at arms almost instantly.

"Reports are coming in from all over the city," Herschel reported loudly. "Ti'hi are pouring in. They must have constructed tunnels we didn't even know about and used explosives to blast their way in. So far none have entered the military complex."

Prazak sneered. "I sent Marking to the sea wall. Baut may be trying to attack from there with Corq pirates. He means to divide us. Squeeze us from all sides."

"Swine," Herschel growled. "Using hired thugs and cutthroats."

"They're easier to cut down than Ti'hi," Prazak reminded. This wouldn't be the first time in the men's' long history on the planet that they had to fight the seafaring criminals.

Herschel nodded. "Orders?"

"Stay here and hold the gates," Prazak replied. "I'll make my way to the Tower. If the gate is breached, fall back to the Tower square and reconsolidate. For Sardis, brother."

"For Sardis, brother," Herschel repeated then sprinted off. The sergeant went with him.

Next he turned to the trio that accompanied him. "Baut hasn't harmed your doctor," he said to Picard when he saw the nervousness on the Starfleet man's visage. "And he won't. He'll keep her as a bargaining tool to use when we overpower his army."

"Will we overpower his army?" Picard questioned.

Prazak smiled confidently. "Of course we will. And when we do, Baut will be forced to fight me. And that is when I'll get your doctor back for you, Captain. I swear it on my life."

"Then let's do what must be done, General," Picard declared.

"Follow me." Prazak pointed with his sword at the Tower that rose in the distance. Even with the beating rain, the smoke and flames caused by the explosions billowed into the air. "Stay close. Timor, bring up the rear. we all need to be prepared to kill any Ti'hi that tries to stop us. Because believe me, Captain, they will do their best to kill us first."

"Reminds me of the old days, Andrej," Guinan quipped.

Prazak smirked, turned then headed off towards the Tower and the heart of the battle.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

* * *

Baut's laugh was evil. "Excellent. They scatter like frightened rodents."

Beverly eyed the Chieftain with disdain. She was still gagged, and therefore unable to respond, but she didn't mind. She had no words for the despicable creature.

"They underestimated you, Baut," Dickerson snickered. "It'll be the Empress' undoing."

"That's what she gets for placing her trust in Prazak," Baut spat. "He's a relic. He got too comfortable living the good life in the Tower. Now Prazak will die for the crimes he's committed against our people. Without him the Empress' army will crumble and Tarina shall serve me."

Bile rose in Beverly's throat at the way Baut licked his lips after his last statement. She couldn't bear to imagine the horrible things the Ti'hi leader planned to do to the young, caring woman that ruled Sardis. Biting the inside of her mouth, Beverly forced the burning back down into her gut. Once again she found her mind conflicted; as a doctor her role was to save lives, but as a human being and a woman she found hope in the prospect of seeing Prazak kill the vile Baut.

"The Specter won't be easy to kill," the shaman hissed.

Baut hefted his warhammer. "He's no ghost. I'll crush his skull in one blow."

Beverly pressed her eyes shut, shifting her weight in the uncomfortable saddle. Dickerson responded by tightening his hold on her, pulling her harder against his chest. "Don't even think about trying to escape," he whispered in her ear. "Baut needs you, but I wouldn't put it past him to shoot you dead if you run."

She nodded a little at his words.

Just then two Ti'hi lieutenants rode up to the group. They both bowed slightly from their saddles as one said, "All is ready, Chieftain."

Baut's oversized jaw curled into a wicked grin. "Then send your forces forward. Charge the wall. Blow up that gate. I want to be inside my city now!"

Beverly watched the two ride off. Moments later she exhaled sadly as Ti'hi, carrying crude bombs and covering their heads with thick wooden shields, sprinted from formation. Others ran with them, firing crossbow bolts blindly towards the top of the wall.

The carnage would be great. The bloodshed reprehensible. Doctor Crusher knew she'd not soon forget this day.

* * *

Chest heaving, Riker sucked in a lungful of frigid air to steady his breathing. The route they'd taken to the sea wall had been longer than he'd expected. And sprinting alongside Colonel Marking had been a challenge. Even Worf was out of breath from the run.

Along the way they'd had to battle Ti'hi that attempted to stop them. Most were cut down by Marking and his scouts as they kept running, but Riker had hacked and slashed at a number of the foul-smelling creatures. As a result, his muscles burned and his sword was smeared in dark blood.

More soldiers and a number of civilians had joined the group's charge to the sea wall. Riker recognized a few nobles that had been present at the training area the morning he'd fought Prazak.

Now, facing the sea wall, Marking's rag tag group of defenders lined up. The first row of about twenty people knelt while others stood behind them. Another group faced west, protecting the fighters' rear.

Riker peered out into the beating rain. The wind had picked up, forming squalls in the bay that served as Sardis Proper's eastern boarder. Waves crashed against tied up fishing boats. Wooden piers were overtaken and soaked by the waves and rain. A mixture of scents, salt and fish, was heavy in the air.

And in the distant, against the horizon, were half a dozen black ships that Riker assumed could only belong to these Corq pirates from the south. Ships that carried death to Sardis' shoreline in the form of pirates and pillagers. He couldn't see any boats between the ships and the city. But he could hear the rising roar of the pirates somewhere on the far side of the sea wall.

"Take aim," Marking shouted down the line, his people sheathing their swords to switch to crossbows. "Wait until as many of them as possible crest the wall."

Riker held his breath. He tightened his grip on his sword, trying to keep it tight in his slippery fingers. Next to him, Worf growled.

"Stand ready, Commander," Marking said with a smile.

Forcing himself to breathe, Riker nodded. What he wouldn't give for a phaser at the moment.

Time ticked by. To Will it felt like an eternity, but soon the low rumbles grew into a battle charged roar and the first group of hired thugs crested the wall. He took only a moment to register what these new combatants looked like. They were more Terran like than their Ti'hi allies. The Corqs had pale skin, shaved heads and humanoid features. Deep eye sockets had caused their skulls to evolve with a shelf like feature over their eyes and flat noses. Each sported intricate tattoo-like markings that looked more like they'd been branded into the skin versus inked on their faces and shaven heads. Most wore a number of earrings in each ear and some even had nose and lip rings. A few had small spikes running along the center of their skulls. Riker tried not to imagine how painful such a procedure must have been. The pirates wore mismatched armor and carried similar bladed weapons as the Sardis warriors and Ti'hi.

As they climbed the wall, a number of them shouted and hollered. Will could just make out what looked like sharpened rows of yellow and red teeth inside their mouths. He only had a second to wonder if it was natural or if the pirates filed down their teeth to give themselves a more menacing appearance.

The first group of Corqs were almost over the wall when Marking shouted, "Fire!"

The sound of almost twenty crossbow bolts being fired at once was more deafening than Riker thought possible. Bolts sped through the open space and thudded into the chests, faces, and necks of the pirates. Invaders cried out in pain as others shouted and continued their assault.

"Reload! Second line, fire!" Marking was shouting the moment the first row finished firing.

Another volley from the second line slammed into the pirates, but still more continued their charge. Those that survived completely ignored their dead or dying comrades being struck down. Riker figured there was no love lost between the criminals.

 _More plunder for the survivors._

By the time the next two volleys of bolts flew into the mass of enemies, those that had been lucky enough to avoid being hit were quickly closing ground.

"Switch weapons," Marking ordered.

Immediately the soldiers, as Riker no longer felt it was necessary to make the distinction between soldier, civilian, and noble, dropped their crossbows and drew their swords. Some even carried shields on their backs which were rapidly unslung and whipped into place. Riker marveled at the efficiency, precision, and discipline of the group. Prazak and his two friends really had trained these people well.

That was Riker's last thought as the Corq slammed into the defending force. Steel and wood smashed against steel and wood. Grunts and shouts rose up as the melee commenced. Soon wounded cries joined the cacophony of sounds and the scent of fresh blood in the air overtook the smells of the sea.

Standing side by side with Worf and Marking, Riker fought to fend off the raiders, striking down the bald headed cutthroats as they fought to break through the Sardis line.

* * *

"Captain!"

Picard skidded to a halt, pivoting at the waist as he did. Looking back, he saw Guinan, her arm entangled in a crude rope and hook device. The other end was held by a Ti'hi, grinning and snickering as he pulled the El-Aurian closer to him. All around the purple skinned invaders were clashing with Sardis forces.

Changing directions, Picard ran to his friend. The crude implement was locked around Guinan's upper arm, tightening with each tug from the other end. Feet planted in the thick mud, she used her other hand to claw at the hooks, but her assailant was stronger and winning the tug of war.

"Stay still," Picard hollered over the noise of combat.

Guinan's face was twisted with pain. Her jaw set, she nodded. "Help me get it off."

With one hand, Picard grasped the end of the hook. Guinan cried out, but bit her lip and nodded a little when Picard glanced back at her. Raising his sword, he hacked at the rope in an attempt to severe the hook. The blade bounced off the thick cords, but Picard didn't give up. He kept hacking. The Ti'hi kept pulling.

"Its cutting through my clothes," Guinan winced, her words struck with agony.

"I'm trying, Guinan," Picard assured. A quick look revealed blood soaking her garments. He hacked harder.

Prazak stepped into their line of sight. He didn't approach the pair, but instead charged the Ti'hi at the far end of the rope. Black armor shimmering with beads of rain and blood, Prazak met the Ti'hi head on. The Ti'hi shrieked and loosened one hand from the rope. With the other, he reached for a battle axe attached to the belt around his waist. The Ti'hi never had a chance to draw. Prazak came to a halt, pivoted, and swung his sword at a downward angle. The blade bit into the creature's neck and shoulder. Pulling the longsword forward, Prazak sliced deeply into the creature's body. The Ti'hi's scream lasted only a second or two before he died.

The rope fell from the Ti'hi's lifeless hands. Stunned by the horrific scene of Prazak's killing strike, Picard and Guinan hadn't readjusted to the change in tension. Caught off guard, they toppled into the slushy mud.

Blinking, Picard shook the rain from his eyes and regained his senses. At once, he started to loosen the hook from Guinan's arm, careful not cause further damage from the sharpened prongs on the ends. When it was free, he lifted the heavy implement clear then tossed it aside. It landed with a wet thump in the mud.

"How bad are you hurt?" he asked.

Guinan's other hand hovered shakily over the bleeding wound. "It hurts, but I'll survive."

Picard managed a smile. "Good. I always knew you were a tough one, Guinan." He tore a few strips off cloth from the bottom of his jacket and wrapped them tightly around his friend's wounds. Guinan hissed as he pulled them tight.

"That she is, Captain," Prazak stated.

Looking over his shoulder, Picard saw the General had joined them. The man's hair and stubble soaked from the freezing rain. Watery trails of mud and blood ran down his face. His sword was drenched in so much blood that the toxic liquid ran off the point of the sword in a steady stream.

Jutting out his chin, Picard indicated Prazak's hairline. "You're bleeding as well."

Looking as if the statement was news to him, Prazak touched the side of his head. He was wearing gloves, but Picard could see that when the General pulled his hand back there was a decent amount of fresh blood on his fingers. "I'll live."

He couldn't help it. Picard smirked while shaking his head. Reaching down, Prazak hooked a hand under Picard's shoulder, assisting him in helping Guinan to her feet.

"We need to keep moving," Prazak stated matter-of-factly.

Picard surveyed their surroundings. The fighting was intense, but it seemed the Sardis forces had the upper hand. They were outnumbered, but they clearly possessed better fighting skills. Where the Ti'hi fought more like shock troops, using uncoordinated rushes while hacking and swinging, the Sardis soldiers kept their cool and drew their enemy into the fray before cutting them down swiftly.

But that didn't mean the fight was won. The sheer number of enemy combatants was overwhelming. For every Sardis fighter Picard saw, there was three Ti'hi. To him, it appeared that it would only be a matter of time before the Ti'hi overran the Sardis army, no matter how hard the latter fought to defend their home and their lives. Something had to give. And soon.

A sudden burst of multiple explosions droned out the sounds of the nearby fighting. The noise had come from behind them. From the wall. Picard gave Prazak a wide-eyed glance.

"Baut is attempting to breach the wall," Prazak assumed. "And he probably will."

Another explosion, this one twice as loud as the smaller ones, blasted through the air. Through the rain, Picard saw dark smoke rising into the sky.

Prazak was scowling. "And sooner than I expected."

Guinan looked at Prazak. "Wilhelm?"

"He knows when to pull back if necessary. Come on, we have to get to the Empress and reconsolidate." He looked back at Timor. "Send out the signal."

The young soldier nodded shakily. Picard could tell this was the man's first true test of combat. And while he looked frightened, he had fought bravely so far. He plucked a horn like device from his belt and lifted to his lips. The sound that came from the horn bellowed loudly across the battlefield. Picard was sure he heard the same sounds echoing in the distance in response.

It made him think. He tapped his combadge. "This is the Captain. We're making our way to the Tower courtyard."

He breathed a sigh of relief when he received responses from Commander Riker, who reported that Worf was with him, and from Counselor Troi.

 _Now I just need to get Beverly back._

* * *

Deanna staggered. Multiple shockwaves, results of the explosions that were decimating the city, pounded into her and those that stood by her side.

A hand on her upper arm steadied her, stopping Deanna from falling flat into the mud. It belonged to Tarina. The young ruler was next to Troi and the two women were surrounded by the Empress' royal guardsmen. The dedicated group of protectors had encircled the two women. As unchallenged Ti'hi filtered into the square, a number of the guardsmen peeled away, under Captain Tristin's orders, to fend off the snarling beasts.

Deanna took a number of deep breaths as she gripped her sword in both hands. The enemy was nearing. The guardsmen fought bravely, as did others that arrived and continued to fight, but the Ti'hi were getting closer.

A windy swoosh filled Deanna's ears. She registered the sound as coming from a crossbow only seconds before a bolt slammed into a nearby guardsman's armor, punching through the plate just over the man's stomach. With a groan he dropped, but just as fast as he fell, the circle tightened.

"Push forward, Captain!" Tarina ordered the young Captain of the guard. "We're nothing but easy prey for their crossbows up here!"

Deanna couldn't see Tristin's face since he stood in front of her and Tarina. But the back of his helmet moved as he nodded. "Push forward!" he yelled.

The group moved. Ti'hi rushed forward. The three guardsmen in the front, including Tristin, held shields in front of them. Moments later, angry Ti'hi slammed into the group, pushing their weapons through whatever openings they could find.

A throaty holler emanated from Tristin. Troi thought the man must have been hit, but he lowered his shoulder and drove forward. The move knocked the attacking creatures to the ground. The Captain swung his shield out and away then rammed his blade into the nearest down Ti'hi. The creature squealed as its blood spilled upon the steps of the Tower.

After that, Deanna became lost in the ensuing fight. She stuck close to Tarina as the Empress fought alongside her guards and her people. Deanna did her best to stop any Ti'hi that moved in for the kill.

Before she knew it, Troi was as deeply entrenched in the fight for survival as the people of Sardis.

* * *

Worf lowered his weapon. But only for a moment. The battle at the sea had been fierce. The pirates putting up more of a fight than expected. And they hadn't gotten them all. Some had managed to break through the line and disappear into the city. How many Worf wasn't sure.

Most of the Sardis fighters had survived. Only a few had fallen at the hands of the Corq raiders. But of the survivors only a few had made it out physically unscathed. From the weary looks on the faces of the men and women around him, all would suffer mentally and emotionally to some degree.

Worf didn't think less of them. They'd proven their mettle. They'd all fought with bravery and courage, even if they were scared to death on the inside.

To Worf, those were the qualities of a true warrior.

Colonel Marking was speaking into his communication device while a non-com soldier was regrouping the fighters.

Worf turned to Riker. "Commander?"

Riker sighed and nodded slowly. He too appeared worn down. The rain mixed with sweat created muddy trails down the _Enterprise_ 's First Officer's cheeks. His eyes were distant.

Worf knew Commander Riker was a fine warrior. A man he'd never balk at having at his side in a fight. He just knew that Riker was not as experienced in this style of combat as he was with a phaser or in tactical maneuvers on board the ship. Hand to hand combat with melee weapons was definitely draining. And most combat situations within Starfleet left their opponents stunned, not dead or lying in the cold mud and rain bleeding to death. This was definitely not what most Starfleet officers were accustomed to. Worf, as a Klingon, was an exception. He made a mental note to check on Commander Riker and the others when this was all over.

"I'm okay, Worf," Riker responded between deep breaths.

Marking was coming up to the pair. The American augment was motioning with his hands to his group. Worf watched as the non-com mirrored Marking's moves. The soldiers were already jumping into action.

"We need to make our way back to the Tower," Marking announced when he was next to them. "Herschel is pulling back to the square. Baut is close to breaching the wall and additional Ti'hi will start pouring in. We'll link up with Prazak and the others. Force the Ti'hi and the Corq that got by to come to us then drive them out from there."

Worf tilted his head towards the sea. "What about those ships?"

"They're too far out to be a threat at the moment," Marking responded while cleaning the blade of his sword. He tossed the rag onto the corpse of a pirate. "If they were a threat they'd have fired on us already. And the choppy waters are preventing them from moving further into the bay. If there's anyone still on board, and they don't turn tail and run, we'll destroy them later. Right now the real threat is within the city."

The Sergeant came over. "Colonel, we're ready."

Marking nodded. To Worf and Riker he asked, "Ready?"

Both men nodded which caused Marking to grin. Worf grinned back. Marking was a true soldier, just like Worf. And Marking was good at what he did, damn good in Worf's mind.

"When this is all over, we'll raise cups together one more time, Klingon," Marking stated. He was still grinning, but Worf saw the seriousness in the man's eyes.

Riker arched an eyebrow.

"Bloodwine. The drink of true warriors, Colonel," Worf agreed.

"You can join us, Commander Riker," Marking laughed.

Riker groaned. "Looking forward to it."

Marking laughed louder. Worf joined him. Even Riker started to chuckle. Then, as the temporary respite came to end, Marking set his jaw and banged his fist upon his chest plate. "To the end, Gentlemen."

Worf balled his free hand into a fist and banged it against his chest in response. "To the end, Colonel."

* * *

Sword forgotten, Deanna concentrated all her efforts on pulling Tristin back up the stairs. The Captain of the royal guard had taken a crossbow bolt in the arm. While dazed a Ti'hi had slashed the man's legs out from beneath him, nearly severing Tristin's right leg off at the knee.

The Ti'hi that had downed the Captain had paid for it with his life, however. As soon as Tristin had fallen, Tarina was there and had driven her sword into the creature's belly.

More Sardis fighters continued to arrive, falling into defensive formations to hold the Ti'hi at bay.

Tristin's agonizing cries pierced not only Deanna' ears, but her heart. And he wasn't the only wounded that needed help. Her mind was being assaulted by the painful wailings of hundreds, if not thousands, of wounded. Both Sardis and Ti'hi. But she couldn't let it overwhelm her. Not now. Not when she needed to do whatever she could for Tristin.

Reaching the top of the steps, Deanna knelt down next to the man and gently, but swiftly removed his helmet. Tristin's eyes were filled with pain and fright. He was sweating and his entire body shook.

"Try to relax," Deanna cooed.

Gritting his teeth, Tristin nodded.

Sucking in a breath, Deanna turned her attention to the man's most severe injury, his leg. A tug on his pants caused him to jerk and cry out. Deanna hated causing him further pain, but she had to see the wound. All Starfleet personnel had at least basic medical training, but without a med kit there wasn't much she could do except attempt to stop the bleeding.

"I need to put a tourniquet on to stop the bleeding," Deanna told him. "It'll hurt."

Again, Tristin just gritted his teeth and nodded.

Deanna exposed the wound completely. She gagged. The man's leg was nothing but a mass of blood and shredded skin and muscle. She could see his bones. The smell was overpowering.

"Use," Tristin spoke between quick, short breaths, "my belt."

Unfastening the Captain's weapons belt, she had to work to get it off his torso. When it was free, she quickly stripped it of all the pouches and his sword's scabbard.

Once bare, she slipped the leather-like belt under his torn leg and looped it around. She wiped her hands on her pants in an attempt to dry them off. She was only partially succesful.

"Ready?" she asked.

Tristin frowned. "Yes. Please,"

Deanna didn't wait any longer. Summoning her own courage, she tightened the makeshift tourniquet as tight as possible. Tristin screamed. His back arched. Deanna blocked his screams from her mind. She didn't look at his face, the blood was still flowing. She pulled harder. Tristin continued to scream, his shouts turning into pleas for her to stop. She didn't. She kept tightening the tourniquet with all her strength. Eventually the blood stopped. Tristin's cries had also gone quiet.

Securing the device, she finally allowed herself to look at the Captain's face. His eyes were shut. But his chest still moved. He was alive. It seemed he'd passed out from the pain.

Deanna pressed her fingers to the man's neck to check for a pulse. It was rapid, but strong. When she pulled her hands back, she noticed they were caked with his blood.

She felt a presence at her side.

"He needs a surgeon," she said, her eyes still on the young man's paled face.

"Yes."

Deanna looked back over her shoulder. It was the Empress. Beneath her helm, the teen's eyes went from Deanna to Tristin then back to Deanna. "You've saved him."

"We won't know that till he gets to a doctor," Deanna countered.

Tarina motioned to some nearby guards. "Take the Captain inside. Get him to the infirmary."

The men obeyed immediately. With great care, they lifted Tristin from the ground, mindful of his wounded leg, and hurried him through the doors of the Tower.

Deanna watched them depart. When the doors closed, she turned back to survey the rest of the battlefield. She knew there were others out there that she could help.

But she didn't move. The remaining guards had once again formed a circle around the two women. Deanna glanced at the ground. At the pool of blood that had poured from Tristin's body. Rain drops bounced off the wet stain, causing a ripple effect as the blood cascaded down the stone steps.

Familiar voices pulled her eyes back to the front. Working their way up through the melee was Captain Picard, Guinan and General Prazak. A breath cinched in her throat. They looked battle worn and Guinan's arm appeared wet, but for the most part they appeared uninjured.

The Sardis forces cleared a path for them. Reaching the steps they ascended the slippery stairs.

"Your Highness," Prazak stated immediately. "Why are you out here?"

Tarina ignored the question. "Report, General."

"Herschel is in retreat," Prazak stated. "He's bringing the remaining forces back here. Baut is through the wall."

"Formic's betrayal has truly weakened us." Tarina frowned.

"Allow me to execute him for his crimes, Your Highness," Prazak stated.

Deanna felt Prazak's rage. Rage caused by everything around him. By Formic's traitorous acts. By Baut's infiltration. She didn't fault him. She couldn't imagine how much he was hurting at the moment. How much everyone present was hurting.

Tarina shook her head. "First we must rid Sardis of these creatures."

Prazak snorted a little.

Just then Colonel Marking, Will, and Worf pushed through the crowd. When they came up on the steps, Deanna smirked at how cramped it was getting up here. But she was grateful to see that her friends had made it back safely. Minutes later, General Herschel was there too.

"Baut is parading through the streets, Your Highness," Herschel stated. "He's on his way here."

"Let him come," Prazak growled.

Deanna saw a subtle nod pass between Prazak and one of the guardsmen. The man tossed a cloth to Andrej then disappeared inside. As Prazak cleaned and sheathed his longsword, Deanna heard the doors reopen. A quick look back showed the guardsman accompanying Tega. The boy still held Prazak's helm.

"Is everyone alright?" Picard asked when Deanna and the others settled around him.

Deanna nodded. Her mind was filled with words, but she mouth just couldn't produce them at the moment. From the way Will and Worf nodded too, she figured they were feeling the same. None of them were used to this. She glanced at her blood stained hands. She couldn't understand how anyone could ever get used to it.

Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of a warhorn. Not a Sardis warhorn, but a Ti'hi. She peered out across the square. Sardis soldiers still in formation fidgeted nervously with their raised weapons and protective shields. The Ti'hi across from them did the same. It was a true standoff.

From her elevated position, Deanna could see the Ti'hi parting at the far end of the square. They were making way for their leader.

Baut, astride his mount, was flanked by the shaman on the left and Dickerson and Doctor Crusher on the right.

"Captain," Deanna breathed.

"I see her," Picard responded softly.

They were making their way to the steps.

* * *

Prazak surveyed the blood soaked battlefield. Bodies; Sardis, Ti'hi and even a few Corq were everywhere; accompanied by the foul stench of blood and death. The rain hadn't stopped and Prazak found himself wondering when the last time he'd actually seen this much rain on Sardis. It felt like an omen.

The Ti'hi infiltration had been fierce. And when the explosions had rocked the main gates of the wall, he knew he'd underestimated the Ti'hi and Count Formic's betrayal. Waves of enemy forces poured through the damaged fortification, hacking and slicing and killing anything that stood in their path. The numbers Baut had amassed were staggering. They'd killed and burned as they advanced through the city. Even the steady downpour of rain had yet to extinguish the fires that were consuming shops, homes, and military vehicles.

The Ti'hi had stopped fighting and were at a standoff with the remaining Sardis fighters that had formed up to create a wall of shields and steel; men and women that were prepared to fight to the bitter end before seeing their city returned to slavery. Soldier, commoner, noble, city guard. All stood as one now. Bonded in their fight for survival.

Standing upon the vaulted steps with his two lifelong friends, his Empress, her guards, and the Starfleet personnel, Prazak knew what he had to do.

To his left, surrounded by what remained of her royal guards was the Empress Tarina. The sadness that cloaked her face was daunting; Prazak couldn't help thinking just how young his ruler looked. She'd refused to remain in her tower, refused to stay where it was safe, while her people fought to protect her.

 _Just like her grandfather. She has become the Warrior Ruler._

Tega stood towards the back of the group. As brave as he tried to appear, the boy was clearly distraught by the carnage he saw. Yet he held Prazak's helm firmly in a two handed grip, staying true to the one task that Prazak had given the child.

Beyond the lines of soldiers, the Ti'hi parted. Prazak watched emotionlessly as Baut, astride his massive beast, sauntered forward. The shaman rode next to him. Prazak scowled, but he couldn't bring himself to regret not having killed the Ti'hi woman in the cave. No matter what, he was not a murderer. A smaller Ti'hi Lieutenant had joined the group. He clutched a pole that held their tattered banner.

Finishing off the entourage was the deranged Starfleet man, Lieutenant Dickerson and his terrified captive, Doctor Crusher.

"Beverly," Picard breathed. He took a step forward, but Prazak raised his hand to stop the man from descending the steps.

Baut jerked on the reins, rearing his animal to a stop. Prazak's eyes never left his foe. No words were spoken for some time. The only sounds being the rain, the crackling of the burning buildings, the snorts and snarls of the animals Baut and company rode, and the collective breathing of everyone present.

Baut stayed atop his mount. He was clad in armor. A collection of weaponry strapped to his body. He still held his warhammer. It was covered in blood and flesh. Studying his adversary, Prazak spied a number of short daggers and dirks, in addition to the warhammer and the battleaxe strapped to his back.

When Baut spoke, he didn't address Prazak. He directed his words to the Empress. "Your city is mine, Empress. Your forces and your people either dead or dying. Surrender to me now and I shall spare those that still live. Even as slaves you shall be treated well."

Prazak sneered at the blatant lie. He knew Ti'hi better than that. Baut was clearly the type that would take pleasure in torturing and slaughtering whoever he deemed unworthy of servitude.

Tarina took a step forward and removed her helm. Prazak tensed, as did everyone on the steps with him. "This city shall never be yours, creature," she replied.

Baut jerked on the reins, spinning his mount as he snarled. "You are not the Warrior Ruler. Nor are you even The Kindly One. You are no leader. Just a frightened little girl. I can smell your fear from here."

"I am of the Warrior Ruler and The Kindly One," Tarina retorted, her voice filled with pride. "Their blood is my blood and I shall never surrender what they have built. Not to you or any of your kind."

"Defy me and I shall slaughter your people before your eyes. Your women will become my harem. As shall you, Tarina. Your men and children will be my labor. And when they become too fragile to work, I shall enjoy feasting upon their flesh. Surrender now!"

Tarina turned to Picard. "As you can see, Captain, there is no negotiating with their kind."

"Your Highness," Picard started.

Prazak interrupted. "I shall get your doctor back safely, Captain." He looked at Tarina, bowing his head slightly. "This is my right as Supreme Commander."

"General," Tarina protested.

Prazak turned his attention to Baut. Taking a step forward, he addressed the Ti'hi leader. "Your only chance at taking this city, Baut, is through me."

Baut laughed. "I do not fear you, Specter."

Prazak spat on the ground. "Then fight me! To the death! Release the human woman in exchange for me. That is what you want, is it not? To be the one that kills the Specter. Or are you afraid?"

Prazak saw the reaction of Baut's companions. If Baut backed down now they would not follow him. They might even kill him if he were to display any signs of cowardice in the next few moments.

"I do not fear you, General Prazak. I am not afraid."

"So be it," Prazak stated. "Release the woman and you shall have your chance to take my heart from my chest."

Baut jerked his head at Dickerson. The Lieutenant balked. "She's mine, Baut. You have no right!"

With lightning speed, Baut switched his warhammer to his other hand then shot his arm out. Grabbing Dickerson, he tore the man from the saddle and tossed him hard into the thick, wet mud. "Question me again and it will be the last thing you ever do, human!" Without another look at the fallen man, Baut stared at Crusher. "Get down."

Prazak watched as the doctor didn't hesitate at all. She climbed out of the saddle without even a look at Dickerson. But before she could take three steps, Dickerson was up and had his arms around her waist again, stopping her from running to safety.

Baut no longer seemed to care. It seemed that his telling her to get down was enough of 'releasing her' as he was willing to do.

He spurred his mount closer then came to a halt about fifteen yards from the bottom of the steps. The Sardis soldiers had backed away, creating a large circular area.

Prazak nodded to his friends. There was no need for words; anything he might say would sound cliché. And he didn't need that.

Next he looked at Troi. On her face he saw her worry and fear. Fear for him. For Prazak. He didn't say anything, he simply met her gaze, their eyes locking and exchanging what words could not. For the briefest of moments he remembered their last kiss. The last kiss they'd ever share. He shot her a small, confident smile then turned away, no longer able to look into her eyes.

He took a moment to think of Sa and what the future might hold for the two of them. He still wasn't sure if what he felt for her was love, but he did know that the child she carried was his. And he'd love that child no matter what. He already did.

Tega stepped forward. "Your helm, General."

Prazak wiped his mind clean of all thoughts other than his impeding fight. He gave the child a nod and took the armor from his outstretched hands.

With great show, Baut dismounted. When his boots sunk into the mud, he smacked the animal and it returned to the others. Inhaling, Baut drew himself up to his full height, every bit of his body was hardened muscle. Baut grinned his disgusting grin. He hefted his warhammer over his head and roared. His followers roared back. Then he smacked the weapon into both hands and held it in front of his chest.

Next to Prazak, Picard inhaled sharply. The Starfleet Captain muttered, "'By the pricking of my thumbs,'"

With both hands, Prazak slid the deaths head helm on. Turning, he gazed through the eyeholes at Picard, who had turned to face him. Picard visibly shuttered.

Even though the Captain couldn't see it, Prazak smirked. Reaching to his belt, Prazak leaned back. This time he drew both of his swords. "'Something wicked this way comes.'"

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

* * *

Standing next to the Empress, looking down upon the rain-soaked slush and mud filled courtyard, Jean-Luc felt like a spectator at a gruesome, yet exhilarating theater performance. Each breath he took hitched momentarily in his throat before transforming into a small, white cloud that puffed out between his pursued lips.

His eyes were transfixed on Prazak's back as the augment, dual swords held out, descended the stone steps. The crowd of Sardis, Ti'hi, and Corq combatants watched silently, their own fighting momentarily forgotten, as Tarina's General made his way to his final stand.

Prazak's movements looked natural to Picard, as if the man had done this a thousand times prior. The longsword spun fluidly in Prazak's palm. Picard wondered if Prazak even knew he was doing it. The blade shone like a brilliant steel beacon, its delicate yet rugged beauty a testament to whoever had forged the blade for Tarina's grandfather decades ago.

Picard concluded that if Prazak's sword represented life and hope for Sardis, then his jet black armor was a symbol of death and destruction for the Ti'hi.

He shuttered involuntarily.

 _Just this damn cold and rain._

Even as he tried to convince himself it was the weather, Picard knew better. It wasn't the cold that made his spine tingle, it was the thought of the eventual deadly combat between the two poised and determined combatants below.

Prazak had stopped a few paces beyond the bottom of the Tower's steps. Picard's gaze lingered for a few more seconds before it wandered towards Prazak's foe. And Beverly.

His Chief Medical Officer's eyes were wide with fright. But when Picard looked at her, her eyes moved from Baut and Prazak to Jean-Luc.

Gazes locked, Picard saw the pleading in her eyes. He had to do something to get her away from the unstable Dickerson. The fight that was about to happen could prove to be the distraction that was needed.

"Will," Picard said, his eyes never leaving Beverly, "see if you can make your way through the crowd to Doctor Crusher. Rescue her from Dickerson before he does something reprehensible."

"Aye, Captain," Riker responded immediately.

Picard didn't have to explain his orders, but in this case he felt it was necessary. Perhaps not so much for Commander Riker's benefit, but for his own. Hearing his reasoning out loud would help it make sense. Because at the moment, Picard wanted nothing more than to free Beverly, even if that meant diving into the fray himself. An act that his rational mind knew was foolhardy and dangerous.

"I'd go myself, but if I disappear Dickerson might notice and realize something is happening."

"Understood, Sir," Riker replied.

"I will go as well," Worf growled.

"Don't think you two get to have all the fun and leave me behind," Colonel Marking chuckled.

That drew Picard's attention to the men that stood at his side. He expected such loyalty from his own officers and crew, but to witness it, yet again, from the augments still gave Picard pause. It was one thing to risk your life for people you knew, people you loved. But to do so for strangers, strangers that only a short time ago threatened you with arrest and possible execution; that was something that Picard was still attempting to wrap his head around.

Lost for words, he gave the Colonel a short nod. The three men peeled away, slinking behind the royal guards towards the steps that led down the side of the platform.

"They are good men," Tarina offered.

Picard had momentarily forgotten the teen was next to him. When he looked at her, General Herschel was there too, but he was focused on his friend who was about to fight to the death to protect their way of life. Picard figured the German augment had not chosen his place to stand at random; he looked prepared to step in front of his Empress to protect her if needed.

"Yes," Picard exhaled. He was reminded that he still had the Admiral to deal with. "Yes, they are, Your Highness."

Tarina blinked. Her lips curled upward into a gentle, comforting smile. "All of them, Captain. Yours and mine. And you."

His lips parted to speak, but he was stopped when a soft hand touched his arm. It was Counselor Troi. Guinan was there too. "It's almost over, Captain," Troi soothed.

He looked back towards the courtyard. The battleground. Beverly was still in his sights. As was Prazak and Baut. Inhaling, Picard prepared himself for what he was about to witness.

"I hope so, Counselor." Picard sighed. "I truly hope so."

* * *

Rain drops pinged off his helmet. The sound amplified inside his helm, reminding Prazak why he generally did not wear it. The craftswoman who had designed the unique armor set for Prazak had created something truly magnificent. The material used was not only strong, but had properties that amplified sound. Both inside and outside of the helm. Prazak could hear and speak in the same manner as if he wasn't wearing it at all. It aided him in vocalizing commands to and hearing reports from his troops. Or to taunt and terrorize his prey. And from the aura that wafted off Baut and his followers, the helm was working.

Baut didn't appear outwardly frightened, but Prazak could feel the Ti'hi's edgy fear. It sent tingles over his skin and charged the adrenaline racing through his veins.

Prazak chuckled and felt the coolness of his breath waft back over his face. _Some truly believe I am already dead. Even Baut is hesitant. Yet he'll die in an attempt to disprove the myth._

He stepped forward. Slowly. Methodically. When he was at a suitable distance to counter a charge from Baut, Prazak stopped. Pivoting, he narrowed his profile. Short sword pointed downward, ready to be brought up if necessary, Prazak extended his other arm and the longsword. He pointed the blade at Baut.

"What are you waiting for, scum?" Prazak mocked. "Do you hesitate because you _are_ afraid? You believed you could kill me people without mercy! However, now, when you are confronted by me, by your Specter, your fear triumphs. You are pathetic, Baut. I shall enjoy killing you."

The flash of anger in Baut's eyes was exactly the reaction Prazak was expecting. He'd challenged Baut a second time in front of the Ti'hi's soldiers, leaving Baut no choice but to attack.

And that was exactly what the Ti'hi did. With a guttural roar, Baut charged. Prazak stayed rooted in place. He could hear the collective gasps of the onlookers.

 _It begins._

Baut was fast. He closed the distance quickly, swinging his warhammer towards Prazak's head. Prazak had faced similar attacks from Ti'hi in the past. Baut would hope to win quickly with brute strength, not stamina. The Chieftain's choice of weapon was meant for powerful, quick killing blows. Little skill. No finesse. If need be, Prazak knew he could wear Baut down physically by prolonging the fight.

So he let Baut charge. And when the crude weapon was only a fraction of a breath from impacting into the side of his helm, Andrej pivoted backwards and ducked. Baut's warhammer whistled through the air, connecting with nothing.

Prazak bounded up on the balls of feet. Bringing his swords up he met Baut's backhanded attempt to recover from the first miss. The Ti'hi had rotated, both his body and his weapon, and swung back across his torso. Prazak's swords flashed, catching the warhammer's shaft and stopping the weapon mere inches from his own chest.

Twisting his wrists, Prazak's swords slid along the warhammer's shaft then released. Baut stumbled slightly. Already moving, Prazak quickly circled, flipped the longsword into a backhanded grip and slashed at the side of Baut's exposed torso. The glimmering steel shrieked against Baut's armor, sending up little sparks from the contact. The move hadn't cut through, but Prazak hoped it would serve as a warning to Baut; the Ti'hi was no match for Prazak.

If Baut processed that lesson, he didn't show it. Instead he regained his composure and swung the mighty warhammer in another overhead arc. Again, Prazak blocked the attack by crossing his own weapons in front of him. But this time Baut was prepared for the counter move. He'd adjusted his grip, grasping the weapon at the bottom and the top of the shaft, preventing Andrej from slipping the weapon away.

With a snarl, Prazak strained against Baut's strength. Spittle dribbled from his lips while his muscles tightened to keep the Ti'hi at bay. When Baut pressed forward with his weight, Prazak kicked out a leg, twisted and threw Baut, and his warhammer, down into the mud. Baut wind-milled in an effort to stay on his feet, but in the process lost his weapon. Seeing the Ti'hi off-balance, Prazak moved in close to disable the hammer before Baut could recover his footing. With a downward slash, Prazak brought his longsword down towards the center of the warhammer's shaft, hoping to severe the weapon in two. Baut reared, cocked his arm, and jammed his elbow in between Prazak's helm and breast plate. The strike landed perfectly. Andrej choked and staggered backwards.

It was enough to give Baut another chance. Hefting the hammer from the mud, he spat and swung. Prazak moved, but not fast enough to avoid the blow completely. As a result, the hammer crunched into the lower abdomen of his armor and sent Prazak flying to his back. His head bounced off the compacted ground and he felt his skull rattling inside his helm. The wound he'd received earlier in the battle back to Empress and the Tower started bleeding again. The warm wetness mixed with perspiration and matted his hair. He could feel a stream of liquid start to run down his cheek. Unable to wipe it away, all Prazak could do was tilt his head in a manner that kept the liquidly trail from finding his eyes. He wasn't entirely successful. The salty, coppery mixture of his own bodily fluids stung at his eyes, forcing him to rapidly squint and blink until it cleared. He couldn't risk impaired vision.

Baut didn't wait for Prazak to recover. He lifted his hammer over his head then brought it, jagged point forward, down straight towards Andrej's face. Andrej rolled and the hammer thudded into the spot where his head was only seconds prior. If Baut had connected, the blow would have killed Prazak instantly.

Changing his tactic, Baut attacked from the side. Using the flat end of his warhammer, he swung the weapon like a club and bashed it into Andrej's right upper leg, just above his knee. Prazak bit his tongue and tasted blood. The armor plates covering his upper thighs had saved his bones from being crushed, but the blow still hurt like hell.

 _I have to end this._

Spinning his legs, disregarding the pain, Prazak launched himself back to his feet. With a shout, he thrust a boot against Baut's hands just as he was leveling for another hit.

Baut yelped and let go. Moving quickly, Andrej put himself between Baut and his preferred weapon. When Baut reached for one of the numerous daggers on his belt, Andrej attacked. His longsword went down, then up while his short sword sought out Baut's face. Eyes wide, clearly caught off guard by the flurry of swords and Prazak's apparent immunity to pain, Baut stumbled backwards. The combination attack caught Baut exactly where Prazak wanted him; unsure and afraid. The upward motion of the longsword brought the weapon up between Baut's legs to be buried half way into the inside of the Ti'hi's right thigh. Baut grunted. At the same moment, Prazak brought his short sword down across the side of Baut's face.

Pivoting once again, Prazak jerked on his weapons to free them both at the same moment. Baut howled, but Prazak didn't know which wound pained the creature more; the gouge in Baut's leg or the bloody hole on the side of his head where his ear had just been. Prazak didn't care either way.

"You are no match for me," Prazak growled.

Baut wavered, one hand clutching his leg while the other pressed against the bleeding wound on his head. His eyes darted about, from Prazak, to the ground (probably in search of his ear), and to the warhammer behind Prazak that must have felt like it was on the other side of the sea.

Hunched over, Baut backed away. Prazak continued to stalk forward. "I'd like to hear you beg for mercy, Chieftain Baut," Prazak chuckled.

"Never!" Baut yelled. In a flash, he dropped his bloody hand from his earless head to his belt. In one fluid motion he pulled and threw one of the small daggers at Prazak.

The blade bounced off Prazak's chest plate. The weapon dropped harmlessly into the mud at his feet. Prazak's gaze followed it to the ground, lingering for a few seconds. He looked back at Baut. "Is that all you've got?"

A whooshing sound enveloped the tomb like silence of the battleground. Prazak grunted. A sharp, instant pain coursed through his left arm. The short sword slipped from his grasp. The force of the blow caused him to sway off balance.

Taking a step back, Prazak raised his arm. He scowled behind his helm. "What the-"

The bolt protruding from his arm, just above the elbow, seemed to be just as much of a shock to Baut as it was to Prazak.

Baut rose up. "No! This is my fight!"

Snarls and shouts came from the crowd, but Prazak couldn't locate the Ti'hi that fired the crossbow. But he really didn't care either. While the lesser creature must have thought his action was an admirable attempt to help his leader, the Ti'hi, wherever he was, had just made a fatal error. His assumption made Baut look weak and defeated in front of the rest of the Ti'hi.

But Prazak couldn't afford to let the attack to stop him. Baut would not relent and while the Ti'hi clearly didn't appreciate the assist, he'd still take advantage of it.

Prazak acted swiftly. Stepping backwards a number of paces, he dropped his longsword. Bending his wounded arm, he grasped the front of the crossbow bolt, gritted his teeth and pulled.

He held back the cry of pain that grew in his throat. He would not show Baut any inkling of suffering or discomfort. In one swift motion, he tore the bolt from his arm and tossed it nonchalantly to the ground.

The wound throbbed and he knew his left arm would turn useless very soon. Again his inner voice screamed to end the fight swiftly.

Baut had recovered from his angered shock and it appeared he'd dismissed his own injuries as well. He pulled the battle-axe from its resting place on his back, hefted it in both hands and charged.

 _Same tactic. Different weapon._

Prazak dropped to his knees. His right hand found the hilt of his longsword and brought it up to block Baut's downward attack. Axe connected with sword. Baut growled and pushed down. Prazak rotated the blade against the axe then gripped the steel with his left hand. Both hands now on the sword, he tried to force the axe, and Baut, backwards.

They became locked in a battle of raw strength.

Prazak attempted to rise from his knees, yet every time he felt he was gaining some leverage, Baut buckled down and shoved harder. Baut's lips curled into a wicked snarl, blood and mucus spittle dripped from the edges of his jutted maw. His breath stank as bad as his body.

"I'll take your helm, Specter," Baut taunted, "with your head still inside. Then I'll rip out your heart with my bare hands and feast upon it while violating your Empress." Baut chuckled. "Violently. Her whimpered cries will excite me."

Baut continued to push. He was attempting to get Prazak flat on his back. Andrej couldn't let that happen. Instead of responding to Baut's taunts, Prazak saw in a flash his next move. But he had to do it just right or else Baut would bury the axe into his neck.

When Baut pushed harder once again, Andrej let go of the longsword's hilt. In the same moment, he reached forward, snagged one of Baut's remaining daggers, then rolled. Searing pain flared through his wounded arm. Again, he forced it away. Fought against it. If he gave in he'd never survive.

Caught off guard, Baut's feet slipped from the sudden loss of resistance. He staggered forward and the axe sliced into nothing but mud.

Howling in rage, Baut jerked the weapon free, searched for Prazak, and brought the weapon back over his head. Prazak had stayed down, but the moment Baut exposed himself, Andrej, keeping himself small, sprang forward.

The dagger plunged into the exact spot Prazak aimed for. Not Baut's neck or face, but his abdomen. When Baut had raised the axe above his head, he'd left his belly open, just below his ill-fitting armor plate.

Baut's eyes bulged as Andrej, right hand still on the dagger that was buried completely to the hilt in Baut's stomach, raised himself to his full height.

The battle-axe slipped from Baut's grasp.

Prazak clamped the back of Baut's neck with his left hand. He stared icily into his enemy's eyes. "Such a foolish mistake you made, Chieftain."

"I…you…," Baut stammered. Blood pooled in his maw.

"Your mistake," slowly, Prazak began to pull the blade across Baut's stomach. Baut's body started to spasm in Andrej's grasp, "was assuming you could actually kill me."

Baut convulsed. He spit a thick bubble of blood onto Prazak's helm which was only inches from Baut's maw. Prazak continued his torturous slicing. "I could sense your fear before we fought. Now I can taste it. Smell it. It's putrid odor fills my nostrils. You believed you could kill a ghost. You were a fool."

He jerked the dagger one final time. Prazak stepped back, pulling the dagger free.

Baut's innards bulged from his gut as he sank to his knees. His hands hovered over the mortal wound. Blood continued to pour freely from his maw. It spilled from his abdomen as well.

Prazak dropped the dagger. He retrieved his longsword. The Warrior Rulers' longsword.

Dramatically, he stepped back to Baut. The dying creature was still on his knees. If he left Baut as he was, it would be a very painful and prolonged death. Prazak didn't have time for that, even thought it was exactly what the Ti'hi invader deserved.

Angrily, he thrust his right foot forward. The kick was solid and landed squarely in Baut's chest. The Ti'hi fell flat to his back, his arms sprawled outward. His stomach protruding and disgusting.

Prazak positioned himself as needed. Nudging Baut's face with a toe, he made the creature turn his head so his eyes were facing the Tower. Facing the soldiers he'd earlier declared would be his slaves. Towards Empress Tarina; the child Baut vowed to make into a sex slave.

Rage resurfaced in Prazak at those thoughts. Rage and hatred for Baut and his followers. For Count Formic. For all those in his life, past and present, that had betrayed him. Wounded him. Attempted to destroy him. Yet Andrej Prazak remained. While the rest were all dead. Dead or as good as.

"Look, scum," Prazak growled. "Look at what you thought could be yours. It never would have been yours. Sardis belongs to the strong. Not weak cowards such as you."

A strange sound that Prazak couldn't identify escaped Baut's lips. A snorting like snarl. "Do…not…mock…just end me."

"I should let you bleed out upon the ground. You're vermin and vermin do not deserve pity." Prazak looked towards Tarina. The Empress didn't move. Didn't raise her hands. She was leaving the decision to Prazak. "But I do not have time to waste watching vermin squirm before they die."

Baut inhaled sharply.

Prazak planted a boot on Baut's head, forcing his face down into the mud. Holding his longsword in both hands, he raised it high then brought it down swiftly. Perfectly. Baut's head was cut from his torso with a single swing of the sword.

Breathing heavily, with adrenaline still coursing through his veins, Prazak stared at the severed head of his foe. He saw nothing else. He heard nothing but his own breathing. His mind processed nothing other than the scene in front of his eyes. He felt no telepathic probes. No emotions from those around him. He had no idea how long the battle had lasted. It could have been minutes or hours. He just didn't know.

Eventually, his left arm started to throb. His senses began return. And with them came the realization that even with Baut dead, there was still hundreds of Ti'hi gathered around him and his people. Would they honor the terms of Baut's defeat? Or would another step forward to finish what Baut couldn't? What of the Ti'hi shaman?

Prazak raised his foot from Baut's head and took a step back. His eyes stared coldly at it. He couldn't look away. Yet he had too.

Slowly he raised his head. It was still raining. All eyes were on him. Sardis, Ti'hi, Corq, Starfleet. They all watched. They all waited. No one moved. They seemed frozen. As if time had stopped for all but himself. Himself and the rain.

He was still facing the Tower. He tilted his head from side to side, pausing briefly to observe the soldiers of both armies encircling his stage. He looked at his left arm. The wound from the bolt was still bleeding, his sleeve soaked in blood that trailed off the tips of his fingered gloves.

His feet moved. He turned around. Behind him was the shaman and Baut's Lieutenant. They still sat upon their mounts. He briefly registered Dickerson and Doctor Crusher as they had moved closer to the edge of the line of soldiers.

While the Ti'hi Lieutenant looked nervous, the shaman's eyes were devoid of emotion. Prazak directed his attention to her.

"Your Chieftain has lost," Prazak declared. "Surrender."

The Shaman didn't speak. The Lieutenant glanced at the old woman as if looking for direction. Or orders.

Prazak raised his arms. Raised his bloodied longsword. "You sent forth your best and I defeated him!" Acting without thinking, Prazak kicked Baut's head, sending it tumbling through the mud towards the shaman. A number of Ti'hi on the sides cowered back in fear. "You thought you could kill me! You thought you could take this city! You were wrong. You failed."

He whipped his head from side to side. "You cannot kill the Specter that Walks! You cannot kill a ghost. Surrender! Throw down your weapons or else."

"Or else what, Specter?" the shaman asked. Her voice was calm. Smooth. She betrayed no signs of fear.

"Or else, I swear, I will hunt down every last one of you and kill you myself," Prazak retorted, his nostrils flaring. "And I shall no longer be merciful. I shall no longer distinguish between any of you. I will be both your nightmare and your reality. Your death."

Now the Lieutenant was downright frightened. He started gesturing at his troops.

Prazak spun again, his arms going high once again. "Do it! All of you! You cannot escape these walls. You cannot run back to your holes in the ground. Surrender and I just might spare your heads!"

* * *

Just like every other living being in the courtyard, Doctor Crusher stood in frightened awe as she listened to General Prazak's proclamations. She'd watched him defeat and execute Baut with extremely violent precision. And now, as he angrily addressed Baut's army, she knew he wasn't speaking with a puffed out chest and bravado. He was deadly serious. He would kill them all.

Wrapped up in the horrifically enchanting scene before her, she hadn't even noticed Dickerson's hold had loosened. In fact, he'd barely held onto her any longer.

 _Now's my chance._

Slowly, she slinked away. Her steps were small, but with each movement she put a little more distance between herself and the deranged man. When she was almost out of his reach, almost to the rear of the ghastly animal they'd rode, Dickerson turned.

"No!" he exclaimed.

At the same moment that Beverly feared Dickerson would lunge for her, two sets of hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her into the crowd.

She struggled, elbows swinging from side to side.

"Doctor! It's okay."

Riker's voice. Commander Riker. Beverly turned her head. It was Commander Riker. And Lieutenant Worf. They were dragging her to safety. Sardis soldiers closed around them, cutting Dickerson and the nearby Ti'hi off from coming after her.

She jerked her head and Riker seemed to get the message. He gently tugged at the gag in her mouth.

Partially able to speak, she said, "You have to stop him."

"Doctor?" Riker said.

"Dickerson! He's going to kill Prazak!"

* * *

When he'd finished his tirade, Prazak stared out across the crowd. He could see the joys of victory upon the faces of his people and the frightened looks of the Ti'hi as they started to drop their weapons and raise their hands in surrender.

"Fool!"

The insult came from behind him. Before he could turn to confront the speaker, Prazak felt a quick, sharp pain as a piercing blade was driven into the back of his armor. Through his armor. The implement pierced his flesh, pushing him forward.

"You arrogant fool," the voice laughed.

A hushed silence overtook the crowd instantly. Suddenly Prazak was no longer in control.

Prazak dropped his longsword once again. He felt his attacker withdraw the blade only moments before jamming it into Andrej's armor and flesh again. This time into his side, the blade sliding through his armor and flesh, lodging between his ribs.

"I have it now! I have your blood. And when it becomes my blood then I shall be as you. Your death will be my life."

Before the blade was jerked free again, Prazak reached across his body and grabbed the hand that held the blade.

His head swiveled and he saw the face of the man that attacked him. The deranged Starfleet man, Dickerson. The man that had tried to kill Zoja and kidnapped Doctor Crusher. The man that had killed one of Prazak's soldiers. The man that had consorted with Baut.

Dickerson's eyes went wide with terror as he stared into the deaths head helm Prazak still wore.

The angle was awkward, but Prazak managed to rotate his body just enough to launch a backhanded closed fist strike to the side of Dickerson's head. Dickerson released the blade and crumbled to the ground.

From the corner of his eye he saw the shaman watching silently.

"You think you can succeed where Baut failed?" Prazak spat at the fallen man.

Dickerson shook his head. His lips quivered. He tried to scurry backwards through the mud on his backside. No Ti'hi moved to help him escape.

Prazak readjusted his grip on the dagger that protruded from his body. Just like the crossbow bolt, he pulled it free. Immediately he felt warm blood pour onto his skin. His mind registered the blood running down his back as well. He was bleeding like a stuck pig.

He flipped the dagger in his hand. Dickerson kept his eyes on the dagger the entire time as he kept pushing back through the mud. As a result, he didn't realize where he was and bumped against the hairy legs of the shaman's mount.

The beast snapped at him. Dickerson yelped and barely avoided a bite from the animal's sharpened fangs.

But he couldn't avoid Prazak.

Reaching down, Prazak snagged Dickerson's ankle, turned and tossed the man out into the open field of combat. Dickerson landed with a hard, wet flop a hands'-breadth away from Baut's headless corpse.

"You want my blood. You desperately want my blood?" Prazak snarled. "You want eternal life, do you?"

Dickerson was clearly frightened, but he was also insane. He raised a hand as if to ward off Prazak while also nodding.

Prazak nodded in return.

Dickerson's eyes popped even wider. Then Prazak was on him.

Reaching down, Prazak grasped Dickerson by the throat and lifted him off the ground. The man squealed and squirmed in Prazak's grasp as his fingers clawed at Prazak's hand.

"Then you shall have it."

Dickerson managed to gasp just before Prazak thrust the bloody blade into the underside of Dickerson's jaw. Dickerson jerked violently. In one motion, Prazak ripped the blade free and dropped Dickerson back to the ground. Matthew Dickerson shook for a few more moments then died.

Prazak tossed the dagger onto Dickerson's lifeless body.

Reaching up he placed his hands on each side of his helm and lifted it off his head. He wondered what he looked like at that moment. From the looks on the faces closest to him, he imagined he struck as frightful a look without the helm as he did with it.

Tucking the helm beneath his arm, he picked up his longsword.

Without even a second glance at the bodies of the two he'd just killed, Prazak strode purposefully back to the steps. No one challenged him. No one said anything.

When he reached the bottom of the steps, he turned back to face the crowd. He spat. It was blood. He set a hard, intense look upon the remaining enemy. "Anyone else?"

He sneered when the courtyard filled with the collective sounds of hundreds of weapons being thrown to the ground. Even the Lieutenant dismounted, tossed his weapons down, and knelt on the ground, palms upward and head low.

The shaman just nodded across the distance. Somehow, Prazak knew it was her sign for surrender.

Prazak nodded back. He turned and made his way up the steps. Where he bled, the clothing beneath his armor stuck to his body.

When he reached the top, he bowed to Tarina. "Sardis remains free, Your Highness."

Tarina looked so young. She was biting her lip. Staying strong. But she had been scared. She still was. Prazak didn't blame her. She may be their ruler, but she was still a child.

He addressed Picard next. "Your Doctor is safe now." As if on cue, Crusher, along with Riker, Worf, and Marking were coming back up the steps from the side. The Doctor looked just as frightened and exhausted as everyone else, but with the exception of some scrapes and bruises, she appeared unhurt.

Herschel placed a hand on Andrej's shoulder then took the helm, handing it off to Tega. Herschel didn't remove his hand as he walked with his friend towards the entrance doors.

Prazak stopped when he saw Timor. The young man had fought bravely for his first battle. With a nod to the soldier, Prazak said, "Timor, I promote you to Sergeant." Next he nodded at a few soldiers gathered half way up the steps. "Captains, round up the prisoners. If they try to fight, kill them. Separate the Corq raiders. They'll face the gallows."

The Captains, two men and a woman, nodded. "Yes, General."

Timor went with the officers.

Royal guards pushed the Tower doors open. Prazak was grateful. His blood was still draining from his wounds. But he would not falter in front of his army. The entourage followed.

When the doors slammed closed, the longsword slipped from his hand. His legs wavered and he sank to his knees. The warmth of the Tower foyer made him smile. He shut his eyes.

 _No more rain._

Then there was only darkness.

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

* * *

The familiar hum of the _Enterprise_ soothed Captain Picard's tired nerves. Exiting the shuttlecraft, he took a moment to reflect on all he'd witnessed, all he'd experienced, down on the planet's surface.

Guinan touched his arm, bringing him back from his thoughts. "Captain, how are you doing?"

"Still processing it all," Picard responded with a forced smile. "You?"

"The same." Guinan frowned. "Would you like me to accompany you?"

Picard appreciated the gesture, but he'd make his report in private. He didn't want his people being held culpable for his decisions.

"Thank you, Guinan, but that won't be necessary. I'll let you know when I'm finished. You should head to sickbay. Have them take a closer look at your arm."

A gentle smile spread across her lips. "Okay. Just don't head back down there without me."

Picard watched her depart. When the bay doors swished closed behind his friend and confidant, he took a deep breath and headed for his ready room.

He took his time. Bypassing a number of turbolifts, Picard wanted to ensure he was focused. Seeing his crew, greeting them as they headed about the passageways, helped center his mind. Helped him justify what he needed to do. He was charged with keeping these people, and their families, safe. This was their home as much as it was his. And just like the men he'd come to know down on the snow-covered planet, he would do whatever was necessary to protect them. Even if that meant sacrificing his own life.

Eventually he made his way into a lift and headed for the bridge. After a brief stop to inform Data of the mission status and relay preliminary orders, he finally stepped into his ready room, over an hour after he'd arrived back aboard his ship.

He decided to forgo a cup of earl grey. He'd stalled long enough. And the sooner he got the report over with, the sooner he could conclude his business here.

Taking a seat behind his desk, Picard's fingers hovered over the monitor controls. He took a deep breath, straightened his posture and made the call.

Almost immediately the stern face of Admiral Yamoto appeared on the screen before him. "Captain Picard. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten Starfleet reporting procedures."

Picard kept his features neutral. "Admiral, I apologize for the delay. I only just returned to the _Enterprise_."

"I trust you have not returned alone," Yamoto responded harshly.

Picard sucked in a breath. "Actually, Admiral, I have."

Yamoto's face darkened. "Explain, Captain. Explain to me why you've disobeyed a direct order."

 _Here it goes._

"I wouldn't categorize my actions as disobeying orders, Admiral. I could not bring the three augments back with me because they're dead."

Yamoto's eyelids narrowed. Picard knew the man was contemplating whether or not to believe Picard's words. After a long pause, Yamoto said one word. "How?"

"Killed in fighting with their enemies down on the planet, Admiral," Picard stated. The words started to flow. "The augments had become entrenched with one faction on the planet. That faction was at war with another. Fighting to rule over the capital and therefore central control of the region."

"I don't need a history lesson, Captain," Yamoto snapped.

Picard sucked in a breath between his pursed lips.

Yamoto continued. "Did you witness their deaths?"

Picard didn't hesitate. "I did. In fact, the only reason I and my officers managed to survive is because those men fought long enough to give us time to escape."

"How admirable of them," Yamoto sneered. His nose curled upward in disgust as he spoke.

Picard hated the look on his superior's visage. "They died for us,-"

Yamoto cut him off. "Even dead they should be transported back to Earth."

Picard had anticipated this. "Admiral, we could not bring their bodies back. Those men had been made citizens of that planet. At the time they left Earth, neither Starfleet nor the Federation existed. They were not Federation citizens. We have no claim to their bodies. And even if we did, it doesn't matter anymore."

"Why is that, Captain?"

"Because as part of their culture's tradition their bodies were cremated and their ashes buried in their final resting places amongst their honored dead. Admiral, this is over. There is nothing left for us on Sardis."

Yamoto appeared to be processing the information. He might not believe Picard's story, but Picard's integrity was well known throughout Starfleet. It wasn't often he was questioned.

And Picard was betting on the fact that even if Yamoto didn't believe him, the Admiral would not pursue the matter. To do so could implicate himself, and his as yet to be identified cohort, in the mission that sent Dickerson to steal the bark extract and kill or capture Prazak and his people to begin with.

 _Perhaps I should have joined Beverly and the others for their poker games after all. Is it time to play my next hand?_

He decided to go with it. "Admiral, Lieutenant Dickerson is also dead."

Picard observed how Yamoto's eyes subtly shifted. He didn't wait for Yamoto's response. Continuing on, Picard explained, "Dickerson had been found to have consorted with Prazak's enemies. He was also responsible for kidnapping Doctor Crusher and for the direct deaths of a number of the native inhabitants."

"Is that so?" Yamoto drawled.

"The man was clearly mentally disturbed. It was confirmed that he had been regularly ingesting a native substance believing it could prolong his life. However, it warped his mind and drove him insane."

Yamoto waved a dismissive hand. "Supposition at best, Captain."

"Is it, Admiral? We did learn some interesting facts about Matthew Dickerson."

Yamoto stiffened. "I'm not entirely sure this is a road you want to travel, Captain Picard."

Picard remained undeterred. "According to Starfleet records, Dickerson had died on Starbase 189 in an unfortunate accident. He'd been sent there for examination and was being dismissed from Starfleet Intelligence. His medical history showed he was clearly unfit for duty in Starfleet to begin with. Yet, not only was he an operative in SI, he somehow ended up on a planet, alive, after he was already listed as being deceased. He more than likely killed his fellow operatives that were sent on this unsanctioned mission. He languished in isolation and his mind deteriorated. Someone used him as a pawn. Someone that knew of his history and exploited it for his own advantage. And that person left him to die. Matthew Dickerson was a criminal, but he was also a victim."

Now it was clear that Yamoto was holding back his anger. His cheeks collapsed as he sucked in his breath and he'd turned red about the face. "I'm not sure I like your implications, Picard."

"I am not here to please or displease you, Admiral," Picard stated. "I am telling you the facts as they stand. Starfleet has no business with Sardis anymore. What's done cannot be undone. Leave it be, Admiral. Not only for the sake of those that live on this planet, but for your own as well."

Yamoto's lips were pursued. "You have no proof."

"Perhaps, but perhaps not," Picard pointed out. "Are you willing to stake your reputation on that assumption? Because I, Admiral, am willing to stake mine. I was also surprised to learn that you, Admiral Yamoto, were also at Starbase 189 at the same time that Dickerson allegedly died."

Picard didn't think the Admiral's face could get any redder. But it did. Picard knew he had him. "The inhabitants of this planet do not possess warp capability. As established by the Prime Directive, Starfleet has no business interfering with their natural progression."

A voice from off screen spoke up. Picard guessed it was Yamoto's partner in crime. "Captain Picard, need you be reminded that you violated the Prime Directive when you interacted with the natives?"

Picard's lips curled downward. "My official report will cover the violation. However, as we all know, we were responding to a Starfleet distress beacon. A distress beacon that had been activated by Dickerson. My people were captured. I lost an Ensign on that planet. Do you know why we could not recover Ensign Rhodes' body, Admiral? It was because his killers ate him. Andrej Prazak rescued my other officers from that same fate. And he paid for that with his own life. If Starfleet decides to reprimand me for that violation, then so be it. I will gladly accept. However, gentlemen, I can assure you, if you pursue any action against myself or my crew for anything else, or if Starfleet contacts this planet, more will come out. Again, for your sake, I highly recommend this ends here."

There was a lengthy pause. Picard studied Yamoto's face. Observing how the Admiral's demeanor had suddenly changed from anger to nervousness. His eyes twitched, but he kept looking towards his comrade off screen. Picard hadn't recognized the voice. He wished the man would show himself, but he knew that was hopeless. Yamoto's confederate was too smart for that. He was using Yamoto as a fall guy, just as they had used Dickerson.

Finally Yamoto looked back at the screen. "I look forward to reading your official report, Captain. In the meantime, the _Enterprise_ is to report to Starbase 113."

"The Enterprise will return to Starbase 113 in due time. Picard out." He ended the transmission before the Admiral could say any more.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he woke was that he couldn't move his legs. Instantly his heart pounded harder in his chest. His eyelids were heavy and he was having difficulty opening them fully.

 _No. I can't be paralyzed!_

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. "You're not paralyzed, Andrej. Relax. Just relax."

He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. His heart still pounded. He blinked a number of times; rapidly at first, but then slower so he could focus. The blurriness faded. He was in his own bedroom. In his bed. His neck was stiff, so he glanced towards the speaker with only his eyes.

"Deanna," he said. "Why are you here?"

"I was worried about you. Everyone was," she replied. "When you collapsed…"

"My legs," he interrupted. His throat felt dry, but he needed to communicate.

Deanna smiled. "Like I said, everyone was worried about you."

She slipped one arm under his upper back while the other held his arm, assisting him in sitting up. She kept her hands in place to steady him. Slowly he worked the stiffness from his neck, joints, and muscles.

Prazak smiled. Zoja was lying on the thick fur blanket that covered his legs. When their eyes met, the big cat huffed a short whine and her eyes turned ice blue.

"She's been with you ever since they brought you up here. Not even Herschel and Marking could get her to leave your side. She wouldn't even take the treats Marking offered."

Leaning forward, Prazak grasped Zoja's jaws in his hands as the cat scooted closer to his lap. He ran his thumbs along her jaw and scratched the underside of her chin. Deep rumbling purrs vibrated from her chest. He leaned forward a bit more to plant a kiss on the top of the animal's head. He inhaled sharply and winced. He settled for scratching at her ears.

"You're not fully recovered," Deanna explained.

"Again, why are you here? I mean, still here. On Sardis."

"Captain Picard felt things were not yet settled," Deanna responded somewhat cryptically.

"He's going to detain me, isn't he? If not for his original claim, but for killing Dickerson," Prazak stated dryly. He looked into her eyes. "I do not regret what I did, Deanna."

"It's not that, Andrej. I'll let him tell you himself, but I don't think you have anything to fear from us or Starfleet anymore."

Prazak accepted that. He changed the subject. "How long have I been out?"

Deanna chuckled. "Four days. Your body's healing abilities are amazing. Most men would be laid up for weeks or would have died from the amount of blood you lost. You were rushed to the infirmary after you collapsed. Doctor Belan and Doctor Crusher immediately performed surgery and stopped the bleeding, both externally and internally. When Dickerson stabbed you, he managed to pierce vital organs. No one was entirely sure you'd make it. Well, no one other than Herschel and Marking that is."

Prazak frowned. Four days. A lot could have happened in that time. "What's happened since the battle?"

Deanna seemed to understand what he was asking. "The Ti'hi surrendered. Herschel took charge and ordered your forces to round up and process that prisoners. The shaman and Lieutenant are being held separately. I heard Empress Tarina would not start discussing terms without you present. Lady Sa is still in the infirmary. She's stable and the baby is fine."

"I have to go," Prazak said. He shifted his legs beneath the blanket. Zoja huffed, but carefully jumped off the bed.

"Andrej," Deanna protested. "You really should rest. The fighting is over. You defeated your enemies."

"Deanna, I'm fine. I don't need to lie in bed any longer."

Lifting the blanket, he realized he was naked. Even though Deanna had seen him nude, he still hesitated. In that moment, he found himself wishing he could be with her again. Just one more time. To feel her smooth, delicate skin on his, to taste her lips, her tongue. To run his hands through her thick, beautiful hair. To experience every inch of her as she reciprocated the pleasure unto him.

Their connection had been intense. Exhilarating. Both physically and emotionally. It had been more than Prazak had experienced in a long time. And no matter how his future with Lady Sa turned out, he'd always have a place in his heart for Deanna Troi. No one else could fill it. He knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

The edges of Deanna's lips upturned. Prazak wondered if she was thinking the same as he was. He wouldn't probe her mind to find out. "Deanna?" he asked.

"Andrej," she started. After a brief pause, her smile brightened. "I know what you're thinking."

Andrej smiled too. "That obvious?"

She nodded. "Don't think I'm not having the same thoughts. But we...can't. It wouldn't be right."

Prazak frowned. "I know. But it would be fun."

That made her burst out in laughter. She wiped at her eyes and replied, "Since you insist on getting out of that bed you'll need to freshen up. If you want, I'll wait for you in the front room."

"I'd like that," he answered, still smiling.

"Come on, Zoja. Your master needs to shower." Deanna patted her leg.

Zoja looked between her and Prazak. "Go with her, dear," he told the big cat.

Zoja mewed and went to Deanna's side. She turned to go, but Andrej cleared his throat. It was still dry, but he pushed through it.

"I won't take long," Prazak stated with a grin. "Have a drink if you'd like."

Deanna smiled again. She turned and left the bedroom. Prazak watched her go. He sighed. He really was going to miss her.

* * *

Recovery and reconstruction had started almost immediately after the battle that had destroyed much of Sardis Proper's infrastructure. So when Picard and Guinan returned to the surface, Picard found himself humbled by the hard work and determination of the citizens.

His away team had met him at the shuttlecraft and the group was headed to the Empress' Tower. For one of the first times, Picard and his people were left to traverse the city unescorted. The rain had stopped two days prior and once again it had started to snow. From some of the conversations he overheard as they walked, Picard concluded that winter was approaching. It felt odd. One would think that on a snow covered planet it was always winter, but from what he could gather, that was not necessarily the case here. He was grateful he and his crew would be on their way to Starbase 113 before they experienced it. The experiences they would be taking with them was more than enough for Picard at the moment.

"We've assisted with the recovery however we could," Riker was saying, "but the people here seem to be doing just fine without us."

Picard nodded. "They are nothing if not resilient."

"Word has it that delegations from both the Huron and Corq have recently arrived as well," Riker reported. "It seems the Corq want to see the pirates from their lands are dealt the justice their own brand of justice."

"It sounds as if piracy is a black stain on the Corq Government," Troi added. "So much that the rumor is the captured pirates would rather face Sardis justice rather than their own."

Picard smirked. "Sardis justice appears to be dealt out by Prazak's longsword. It makes you wonder what type of punishment could be worse than that."

They reached the Empress' Tower. The doors were guarded, but they were allowed entrance without being challenged or asked to wait. The inside of the Tower was bustling with just as much activity as the town outside. People moved hurriedly about, their duties taking them to and fro without even glances towards the newcomers. Picard had become so familiar with the place that he strode confidently through the throngs of people; leading his team to the Empress' Great Hall.

Twenty minutes, and a plethora of stone staircases, later, the _Enterprise_ crew arrived at the hall. Again, they were allowed entry without hesitation or delay.

The inside of the hall was not nearly as crowded as other areas of Sardis' seat of power, but there was still activity. Picard spied Prazak, Colonel Marking and some nobles in deep talks at the main table. He did not see the Empress or General Herschel.

Making his way forward, he came to stand next to the last occupied seat, which was about half way down the long wooden table. Prazak was seated at the head of the table and while he looked a bit tired, he did not appear to be outwardly suffering from his wounds he'd received only days prior.

When their eyes met, Prazak stood. The others at the table mirrored him. Picard noted that even in discussions the General was armed with his longsword, yet he was not wearing any armor; his wounds probably made the armor uncomfortable and burdensome. Instead he wore more formal clothing. His pants were dark and well tailored to fit his muscled legs. His long sleeve shirt was a light gray color that buttoned down the front. As finely tailored as his pants, the shirt fit his upper body perfectly and he wore the top few buttons undone. His hair was neatly swept back and the stubble on his jaw line and chin were finely trimmed. Even Picard couldn't resist admiring Prazak's fine physique.

"Gentlemen, ladies," Prazak gestured at the seats, "we've been discussing some of the details and outcomes of the battle while we await the Empress and the delegates."

Picard nodded. "Thank you."

Everyone sat back down. Prazak said, "We were just discussing battle damage assessments."

Marking glanced at the new arrivals, then back to the padd in his hands. "As I was saying, our losses were not as great as we first assumed. As of last count, there were 631 wounded and 304 killed in action. The Ti'hi lost over triple that number. Yet, some of our people are still missing. Search crews continue to work day and night. I know we lost some down at the docks and during the subsequent boarding of the Corq vessels. It will take some time to recover their bodies."

Picard knew that after the battle, Colonel Marking had led a boarding raid to the Corq ships in their harbor. He knew because Worf had volunteered to accompany the Colonel and his scouts. He had not yet received a debrief from Worf.

Marking turned his attention back to Prazak. "Most of the Corq that remained on board surrendered to us almost immediately. Those that fought us were killed. We burned and scuttled their ships after clearing out any useful supplies."

One of the nobles, a young man with fine clothing and light brown hair sighed. "The Corq delegation is sure to be perturbed with the loss of those ships. We'll probably have to dip into the treasury to pay for them."

"A small price to pay to prevent those criminals from escaping," Marking snorted. Picard heard Worf grunt in agreement with the Colonel.

"You could have done without burning the ships, John," Prazak stated.

Marking huffed. "Bah! We had no intention of sinking those ships. The first one was actually set aflame by their own people thinking they'd kill us along with themselves."

"And the other ships?" Prazak asked.

Marking shrugged.

"Right," Prazak chuckled. "I have no doubt the Empress is working out the payment arrangements with the delegates. As well as make a determination as to the fate of the surviving pirates."

Guinan was shaking her head. "Pirates invade your lands and you have to pay for their ships? Sounds a bit outlandish."

Prazak nodded. Marking agreed. "True, but the Corq are a strange lot. We have good trade relations with them, so its in our best interest to see they are kept happy."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you scuttled their vessels," Prazak retorted with a smirk.

The Colonel rolled his eyes.

"What's done is done," the young nobleman added. He was typing furiously at the padd he held. "Best I can tell those ships were older vessels. Hopefully we don't have to pay too much to appease the Corq leadership."

Before the next topic of discussion arose, one of the chamber doors behind the Empress' throne opened and closed. General Herschel strode purposefully to the table and handed Prazak a worn and ripped parchment. "I apologize for my lateness. I was summoned to the Tower's prison cells. The guards reported an uprising and unruliness amongst the prisoners and called for an assessment. I arrived and we proceeded to shut the Ti'hi up. That's when we found Count Formic dead in his cell."

Jean-Luc's eyebrows shot up. "Dead?"

Herschel nodded once. "Yes. He was in an isolation cell. Alone. He took his own life. Hung himself with some of his clothing that he'd used to make a noose. My best guess is that the Ti'hi could smell him and got over excited."

Picard shook his head. The Count was a traitor and a coward, but he did not seem to be the type that was ready to die. Apparently he'd been wrong about the nobleman.

Herschel gestured at the paper he'd handed to Prazak then found his seat at the table. "His confession. It seems he was overcome with guilt for his actions. And when he saw that the Ti'hi were being brought in as prisoners he knew he'd made a terrible mistake. He didn't want to live with the knowledge that what he'd done had caused the deaths of so many of his fellow citizens."

"How did he write the note?" Riker questioned.

Herschel's eyes narrowed, but it was Prazak that answered as he set the paper down. "Count Formic was a traitor that had been stripped of his noble status. Yet, he was still afforded means to pass the time in his cell. He, just like any prisoner, was allowed to have items such as writing materials and books."

"Just one more senseless death," Troi mused quietly.

Picard wondered if such a statement would rankle the augments or the other nobles at the table, but before any could react the other door behind the throne opened and Tarina entered, followed by her royal guards, minus Captain Tristin, her advisor, and four others that Picard had not previously seen.

The Empress had exchanged her battle garb for one of her more luxurious gowns. A deep red garment with green, white, and black lace woven into the upper arms and chest, the dress flowed all the way to the floor. She wore her thick fur shawl draped across her shoulders, held in place by two silver clasps made to look like the head of a Davnora cat on each side. The clasps were connected by a chain with a clear glass replica of the belora flower in the center. Her hair was elegantly styled and cascaded down her back. She wore her simple crown atop her head.

At once, everyone at the table rose and Picard noticed Zoja had been present the entire time as well. The big cat been resting at Prazak's feet, but moved out from the table when the others went to gather by the throne.

Tarina made her way up the steps and took her place on the throne. Her entourage stayed standing at the base as her guards took up their positions.

"Tristin?" Deanna whispered.

Picard recalled the Counselor's role in attempting to save the young man from bleeding to death.

"Lost his leg, but lives," Prazak said quietly. "Recovering in the infirmary."

Picard saw the relief on Troi's face. It made him proud once again to think of all his people had done under such horrific circumstances.

Picard looked towards the newcomers and took a moment to study the four. He knew they had to be the delegates. Two males, dressed in similar fashions of brown furs and heavy boots bore similarities to the Corq pirates. They had shaved heads and facial tattoos. But their teeth were not sharpened like the pirates. Rather, each had an assortment of gold capped teeth in their mouths. Each man sported multiple gold jewelry accessories; rings, necklaces, earrings, and large wrist gauntlets. If the gold assortments were any indication, then the trading life had been good to these men.

The other two had to be the Huron delegates. One man and one woman, but both of equal height. They exuded a much more sophisticated air than the Corq. Each wore light colored clothing that somehow seemed both comfortable and warm, yet light weight. They had strange headdresses on that kept their hair in place. Their skin was a bronze color and they had large disc like eyes of an emerald hue. Not tall or large by any means, Picard could see why, if the rest of the Huron people were of similar physical makeups, they would have had to rely on Sardis for protection in exchange for the steel that built Sardis' wall.

Seated, Tarina's eyes scanned her assembly before looking to the Corq delegates. "I believe we've come to acceptable terms, J'yi."

The larger of the two men nodded. "Yes. We'll accept the reduced payment for our lost ships due to the pirates' actions against your people, Your Highness." He didn't sound entirely pleased.

"How many of their people are being held, General Prazak?" Tarina asked.

"Two hundred and four, Your Highness," Prazak responded at once. "The dead have been separated as well."

J'yi flicked a hand. "We don't care about the dead. You can burn them for all we care, General."

Picard sucked in a breath.

Prazak's shoulders shrugged a tad. "Very well. The prisoners will be released to you at once."

J'yi's lips curled into a sadistic grin. "I can assure you, General, and you, Empress Tarina, they will regret their decision to side with the Ti'hi."

J'yi's companion laughed. "They will have a long time to regret that decision too. They'll wish they had died here versus surrendering."

Tarina seemed put off by the Corq's behavior. Picard knew that at times those in power had to make decisions they did not necessarily agree with. Or deal with less than desirable "allies". He didn't know what the delegates had earlier proposed behind closed doors, but it seemed they cared more about their lost ships than about the lives of their people, even if those lives belonged to criminals in this case.

Tarina gave the Corq one last look before addressing the Hurons. "I appreciate your willingness to help us rebuild our wall, Councilwoman Ledfa and Councilman Ludfo."

The Hurons bowed in unison. Ledfa replied, "Of course, Your Highness. It is the least we can do to support Sardis Proper."

"In a way, it is our responsibility," Council Ludfo added. "The materials should have been impervious to attack. Even an attack with explosives. We shall ensure the new materials are even stronger."

Tarina looked out to her own people and waved at one of the young nobleman. It was the same man that had spoken earlier about paying the Corqs. He approached the throne and went down on one knee. Picard did not know the man's name, but had seen him during the battle. His high end clothing covered his wounds, but Picard had witnessed the man injured with a slash across his back during the fight.

"Baron Dubont," she said.

"Yes, Your Highness?" he lifted his gaze, but stayed down on the knee.

"You may not have known that before Baron Hurrey was murdered, he was in line to take over governing duties of the town of Hi-bar on the far side of Tega Peak. You are his closest relative. Therefore, I am appointing you to those duties. You shall accompany Councilwoman Ledfa and Councilman Ludfo back to the Huron capital, make your assessment of Hi-bar and the Sardis garrison stationed there, then report back to me in one month. At that time, you shall move there permanently or until relieved of those duties."

Picard watched the man's facial expressions closely. Undoubtedly, the young Baron was both surprised and honored at the appointment.

Dubont gulped. "You do me, and Baron Hurrey, an honor, Your Highness. I shall not let either of you down."

"I know you will do just fine," Tarina assured. "My advisor will see to the duties of paying the Corq from the treasury and we shall appoint another in your place. You are relieved of those responsibilities now, Baron."

Again, Picard found himself in awe of Tarina. The young ruler never balked at her duties and responsibilities. Hard when necessary. Fair when appropriate. And ready to pick up a sword and fight for her people when called upon. It was no surprise the teen was so beloved by her people, just like her father and grandfather before her. And it was no wonder Prazak and his friends had pledged their lives to such a family. Picard wished he could have met those that came before Tarina. The Warrior Ruler, who freed his people from slavery and established a working society. The Kindly One, crippled as a child, but lived to govern Sardis, keep it safe, develop a sustainable economy and government and sire the now child ruler, Tarina. Sardis was truly privileged to have such a devout potentate.

At that, the delegates from both groups showed their respects to Tarina and departed. Baron Dubont gathered up his belongings then quickly followed behind the Hurons.

When the door closed, Tarina's eyes wandered across the remaining people in the room. When they came to rest on Picard, she smiled at him. "Captain, thank you for joining us. I apologize for having to make you wait through those final decrees, however I assure you, that was nothing compared to the negotiations leading up to those decisions."

The group, with the exception of the royal guards, all laughed. Even Picard and his people. They knew how painfully frustrating negotiations tended to be at times.

"I felt it was necessary that we see this through before my ship departs, Your Highness," Picard answered honestly.

"I guess that just leaves our own negotiations, Captain," Tarina pressed a little.

From the corner of his eye, Picard witnessed Prazak stiffen. So he went to the augment's side. He nodded encouragingly then addressed Tarina. "No negotiations necessary, Your Highness. As far as my superiors know, Andrej Prazak, Wilhelm Herschel, and John Marking all died on this planet."

Prazak's head turned. His eyes were narrow slits. "You lied for us?"

Picard shrugged. "I prefer to think of it as skirting the edges of the truth. I see no reason why Starfleet should attempt to claim these men as citizens. They are not and therefore are not under our jurisdiction. If Starfleet believes they are dead, Your Highness, they'll have no reason to come looking for them again."

"And what of Dickerson?" Prazak wanted to know.

Picard let his shoulder's sag. "I preferred to have taken Lieutenant Dickerson back with us alive. But his death just confirms my belief that no one will come here again. Those that sent him know the mistakes they made and know the consequences that would take place if their illegal operation became known to our higher command. And after all, General, Dickerson did attempt to kill you."

"And nearly succeeded," Crusher added with a smile. Picard knew that smile. It was saying that Beverly felt Prazak should still be in bed, but was holding her tongue respectfully.

"Luckily for us, Doctor," Tarina stated, "both the cretin Baut and your Lieutenant failed in their attempts."

"Either way, you don't have to fear anyone coming to look for these men any more. They are safe and by extension, so are you and your people, Your Highness," Picard said.

"Thank you, Captain," Prazak breathed softly.

At that moment, Tarina stood and gracefully descended the steps, meeting the group at the floor. Zoja bounded over to the woman. Tarina scratched the cat's ears as Zoja rubbed against the Empress' gown.

"There will be another celebration tonight, Captain," Tarina stated. "If you and your people can stay just a bit longer, it would be an honor for us. You all fought side by side with us. Doctor Crusher, you selflessly tended to our wounded, both before and even after your own ordeal. That alone shows me how dedicated you are to helping people."

Picard glanced at his crew. Beverly was blushing from Tarina's praise. The rest, including Guinan appeared tired, but from the lighted looks on their faces, they'd perked up at the idea of one last night of celebration on Sardis.

Picard accepted the invitation. "I think we can do that, Your Highness."

She smiled and just for the briefest of moments Picard saw the child in the young ruler again. But just as quickly as it appeared, she composed herself. "Excellent. This shall be different than the last. This will be with all of Sardis Proper. Inside the Tower and out. I believe you shall all enjoy yourselves so much."

* * *

"Tarina wasn't kidding about this celebration," Riker chuckled. "It's one huge festival!"

"Well, they are celebrating a significant victory," Troi added with a smile.

"Yes, freedom from slavery is always worth rejoicing over," Picard stated.

Night had fallen on the city, but the cold did nothing to keep the festivities at bay. Every street was lit and packed. People danced and sang. Vendors sold delicious smelling foods and drinks. Children, previously hidden away when the fighting had commenced, ran carefree up and down the roads. Some were dressed like soldiers and played with wooden swords while others just kicked at the mounds of snow. Even the roving city guard seemed relaxed in their postures as they carried out their duties. Seeing them made Picard glance back over his shoulder towards the wall, but the lights did not extend that high into the sky. Thus, the top of the wall, where it wasn't damaged, remained cloaked in darkness. Picard assumed there was still guards up there.

A group of young soldiers sauntered by. They were laughing richly and from their staggering steps, they appeared quite intoxicated. When the men and women saw the Starfleet personnel, they cheered incoherently. One even dared to slap Worf in the chest. Worf snarled, but he clearly showed that he knew the man was not being combative. A moment later drinks were shoved into the officers' hands and the young soldiers hurried off in the direction they'd been heading.

Steam rose from the cups. Picard sniffed and then took a drink. The liquid was warm, strong, and had just a hint of fruitiness mixed with a cinnamon like spice in the flavor. "Try not to get too drunk," he smirked before taking a sip.

"Bah!" Worf responded before taking a deep gulp of the hot liquid.

"Prune juice with a bite, aye, Worf?" Riker laughed.

"Not prune juice or bloodwine, but it shall do for now," Worf responded before finishing the rest of the drink.

As the group started to meander again, Picard found Beverly lingering back a few paces with him. She hooked an arm into his. "You did well, Jean-Luc."

"Everyone did, Beverly," Picard replied with a smile. "Under the circumstances things could have turned out much worse."

"The short time I spent with Matthew Dickerson, I really did feel sorry for him," Beverly confessed after a sip from her glass. "I mean, we know the horrible things he did, but I know that mental illness effects everyone differently."

"He was a victim and I said as much to Admiral Yamoto."

Beverly tightened into his side. They kept walking. "He was. I wish Yamoto had never been on that Starbase. Matthew could have went home to Earth and gotten the help he needed. And none of this would have happened. The tragedy of it all can really depress a person."

Picard nodded. "I'm sorry you had to experience that, but I know you, Beverly. And I know that in that short time you tried to help him. And maybe he saw that, but he just couldn't get passed the lies he'd been told and how his mind warped those lies into truths."

"Yes." Beverly frowned.

They stopped talking when they'd reached the main courtyard. A medium sized stage had been set up where the fight between Prazak and Baut had happened. A play was currently being conducted up on the stage. Or more like a reenactment. The gathered crowd watched as two people dressed in eccentric costumes reenacted the fight between Prazak and Baut. The Baut character moved clumsily, probably due to its oversized head, as Prazak's actor toyed with the dizzied beast. People laughed and cheered, even when Prazak's character was knocked down by Baut.

"It couldn't have been that silly."

Picard and the others turned. Prazak had snuck up from out of nowhere, his loyal companion Zoja right alongside him. Still dressed in his formal wear from earlier, he didn't seem bothered by the cold. Prazak pulled his eyes from the play to look at the Starfleet crew. He smiled then gestured back up at the stage where Baut was landing a kick to Prazak's groin. "I mean, come on, he never kicked me there!"

When the crowd noticed Prazak had joined them, they all started to cheer even louder. The cheering egged on the actors, with Baut's character getting even more and more flustered. Finally, the Prazak actor simulated the death blow and sent the enlarged Baut head to the stage. Baut performed an overdramatic death scene then plopped down to the wooden plank. Prazak hollered incoherently then kicked the Baut costume head. Everyone cheered.

The real Prazak laughed. "Now I did do that!"

"I believe that struck fear into your enemies' hearts more so than killing their leader," Worf growled seriously.

The actors bowed as the onlookers applauded. Groups started to wander off together as the actors on stage gathered up their costumes while announcing another show would begin shortly.

"I'm sure it did," Prazak agreed. "Are you all enjoying yourselves tonight?"

Everyone nodded. Picard answered for the group, "Yes. The food and drinks are delicious and everyone is very kind."

"And the entertainment isn't half bad," Riker threw in.

"We can always spar if you want. That would really get the crowd riled up," Prazak replied. Picard thought he was serious, but when Prazak grinned and slapped Riker on the shoulder, he relaxed.

 _Don't need any more of that between those two_ , Picard mused.

"I'm heading over to one of the taverns," Prazak jerked his head off to the side. "Come join me. I don't get to them very often and I'd like to buy you all some drinks. I can tell you need refills. It's the least I can do."

Two hours later the party was still going strong. The crew had joined Prazak at a crowded tavern where they had linked up with Marking and Herschel. Once again, Marking and Worf were engaged in a bloodwine drinking contest. Neither man looked ready to give in.

"I think they'll run out of bloodwine before either concedes," Riker joked while the two men down their mugs to the cheers of rambunctious onlookers.

"Then we switch to something stronger." Marking slammed his empty mug on the table a second before Worf. The augment hiccupped as he spoke.

"Nothing is stronger than Klingon bloodwine!" Worf shot back.

As the cups were being refilled by the young Timor, Picard took a moment to glance around. Off towards the wooden bar, beneath the portraits of Sardis' ruling family, he saw Prazak and Guinan. Zoja sat on her haunches near Prazak. The pair was speaking and Picard noticed Guinan slip something into Prazak's hand. Whatever it was, Prazak quickly stowed it away somewhere on his body.

It made Picard think of his own gesture. He patted his heavy coat that was slung over the back of his chair. Rising, he draped the coat over his arm. "Excuse me for a moment."

Making his way through the crowd, Picard came up to the pair just as Guinan was stepping away. "Captain." she smiled.

Picard gave her a nod. Prazak was watching his old friend head back to the table. A burst of cheers drew Picard's attention back that way and he saw the drinking contest continuing.

He looked back at Prazak. "I imagine your metabolisms help with excessive alcohol consumption."

Prazak picked up his own mug from the counter and took a long swig. "Yes, but I guarantee John is going to be hating life tomorrow when he wakes up. We may be augments, but we're still human."

Picard agreed. "One of the reasons Starfleet went to synthehol."

Prazak smirked. "I can't even imagine drinking fake alcohol. Might as well drink water."

Picard tilted his head. "I suppose. While you were recovering I went back to the _Enterprise_ and made my report to my superiors."

Prazak nodded. "Yes. You mentioned that already."

"I also wanted to get something," Picard said. Reaching into his coat, he withdrew a book. The cover was worn and old. It wasn't replicated. It was from Picard's personal collection. Running a hand over the cover, he took a moment to appreciate the item before looking up at Prazak.

The augment was studying him intently.

"I was impressed when you finished the Macbeth quote before stepping off into battle," Picard said.

Prazak smirked. "Everyone knows Macbeth."

"You'd be surprised," Picard huffed a little.

He held the book out to Prazak. "While it's not Shakespeare, I thought it was fitting for our situation."

Prazak set his mug down and took the book from Picard.

"Have you read it?" Picard asked.

Prazak opened the cover and flipped through the pages. He shook his head. "Not that I can recall. We did not get many American novels in my little school in Czechoslovakia."

"It's about judgement and innocence. About not letting our fears and prejudices dictate how we ultimately treat and see people."

Prazak's powerful hands cradled the book. He looked like he was afraid he might crush it if he held on too firmly. Written before even Prazak's time, Picard felt the lessons in "To Kill a Mockingbird" still held true even into this century. And to forget those lessons could be disastrous. Prazak's eyes were filled with questions.

"I was judging you on preconceived notions and flat out lies that had been told to me. It was wrong and I regret it. I hold myself to a much higher standard than that, but in this case, I faltered. I let my fear of what you are blind me from seeing who you are. Men like Atticus Finch, in the book, are standard bearers for moral decency and doing the right thing. You are like Atticus in my mind. I want you to have that book, Andrej."

Prazak blinked. "I can't. This book looks…old. It means something to you."

"It is old and it does mean something to me," Picard said. "But it is mine to give and I want you to have it. Take it. It's yours."

Prazak ran his hand over the cover, just as Picard had done before handing it over. He nodded. "Thank you, Jean-Luc."

Prazak extended his hand. Picard took it. The handshakes were firm. A sign of mutual respect passing between the two men.

* * *

The celebrations had gone well into the morning hours. It wasn't until Deanna stepped out into the Sardis streets that she realized dawn was approaching. Most of the citizens had retired to their homes or establishments such as the tavern Deanna had just left. Only random patrols of soldiers and city guard occupied the now quiet streets.

The rest of the crew were headed to the shuttlecrafts, but Deanna needed to say goodbye.

Prazak had disappeared a few hours earlier. He'd slipped away amongst the crowds. Deanna hadn't noticed until someone asked where he was. Now she searched for him through their connection.

She found him. He didn't answer, but he also didn't stop her from honing in on his location. So as the sun began to crest the horizon of the sea, Deanna stepped into the Empress' royal gardens.

The only other occupants were the guards at the entrance gate. They didn't address her, only nodded in acknowledgement of her presence.

Moving quietly through the gardens, she found Andrej seated on a stone bench. He cradled a book in his hands. He didn't look up as she approached. Zoja was resting close by. The cat hadn't left the man's side since he woke up the day prior.

Deanna stopped a few steps from where Andrej sat. "You left earlier without saying anything."

"I went to the infirmary to check on my people," he explained. "Tristin is doing well, but he was asleep from the medication."

Deanna's lips curled into a soft smile. "That's good to hear. Did you see Lady Sa?"

Prazak nodded. "We spoke for a while. Neither of us is sure how the future will play out, but we both agreed we need to work together for the child's sake. She apologized for her behavior towards us."

"I don't hold any grudges against her," Deanna remarked truthfully. Sa's behavior, while cruel and over the top was at least understandable. The woman saw Deanna as a threat and while Sa didn't know she was pregnant at the time, the hormonal changes in her body could have been factors that influenced her behavior.

"She's ready to leave the infirmary, but Belan wants to ensure she's strong enough to be discharged. At least for another day or two. I agreed."

They fell silent for a time. Andrej continued to stare at the book in his hands while Deanna sat down and glanced between him and the beautifully peaceful gardens. The light snowfall added to the grounds calming effect.

After a while, Andrej said, "I wasn't sure if I would be able to see you off. Saying goodbye has never been easy for me."

"Andrej," Deanna breathed.

He looked up. He set the book down on a cloth he'd laid out on the bench, wrapping it up to protect it from the snow. "I'm sorry, Deanna."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Andrej," Deanna reminded.

Prazak slid his hands around the back of his neck, careening his head towards the sky. "Deanna, you stuck with me through all of this. From the very beginning. Even when I wasn't the most...gentlemanly towards you and your friends."

"Both sides were experiencing something new and uncertain," she assured.

"True, but you gave me your trust when I hadn't even earned it. That was admirable. You defended me. I imagine that was a bold and risky move for you."

Without thinking, she reached up and pulled his hands apart and away from his neck. She grasped one and their fingers intertwined.

"I can't explain it, Andrej, but the things I sensed from you...I just knew you were a good person. I could tell you were guarded and nervous, but I didn't sense any maliciousness or deceit on your part or from your friends. I will admit, it was harder to justify my beliefs once the truth of your identities came out, but when you shared your past with me, I knew that Starfleet was wrong. And I thank you for sharing those events with me. They were horrible and difficult to witness, so I can't imagine what it must have been like to live them as you did. But it showed me who you were, who you really were. Those events defined you and made you into the man you are now."

Prazak squeezed her hand. "It's just who I am."

"And that's why I defended you." Deanna smiled. "Being humble is sometimes a difficult concept for humans to grasp and no one, based on the historical information we have from your time, would ever have thought an augment could be humble. You're one of the good ones, Andrej, so stop beating yourself up over it."

"I'm not all good," he argued. "I've killed people. I've hurt people. Used people. I hurt you."

Deanna shook her head and gave his hand a squeeze in return. "No you didn't, Andrej. Let's just accept that what we shared was something special and leave it at that."

Reaching across with his other hand, he pushed some stray curls behind her ear. Her pulse started to race. The way his fingers caressed her hair, gently stroking her earlobe made her shudder. One last kiss wouldn't hurt. It would be their last time ever seeing each other. Sharing each other. Even if it was just a kiss.

She leaned into him. He met her halfway. Their lips touched and Deanna moaned a little at the contact. She held his hand firmly as the other ghosted over his facial stubble, pulling him closer to her. Into her. She felt his tongue push against her lips, seeking entry. She opened up to him and they soon found each other as the kiss deepened and the passion intensified. She didn't want the moment to end. She never wanted it to end. But eventually their final kiss drew to its natural end. Deanna sighed happily as her eyes fluttered back open. She hadn't even realized she'd closed them.

Andrej pecked her lips one last time. "I'm going to miss you, Deanna Troi. And I'll never forget you."

"I already miss you, Andrej Prazak," responded softly. "And I too, will never forget you."

* * *

 **To Be Continued…**


	26. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Next Generation or any of the show's characters. Other characters not affiliated with the show are my own creation and do belong to me. Thank you.**

 **A/N: Thank you so far to those that have read and/or left reviews. It makes me very happy that people are enjoying my story.**

* * *

 _Early 2373_

Now that her last appointment for the day had ended, Deanna needed some relief. She'd been cooped up in her office the entire afternoon and a stroll to stretch her legs sounded perfect at the moment.

As she casually walked the familiar corridors of the _Enterprise,_ Deanna greeted those around her with a friendly "hello" or a smile and a nod. Without much thought, she found herself headed towards Ten Forward.

"Looks like we're heading to the same place."

Glancing to the side, Troi kept walking as Commander Riker fell in step alongside her. She smiled. "It would appear so, Will."

"Busy day?" he asked.

The doors swished open. The lower lightning of the _Enterprise's_ popular gathering spot forced Deanna to squint while her sight adjusted. The lounge was fairly crowded, so they made their way to a few unoccupied seats at the bar. Guinan was already busy at work.

Deanna nodded while Will relayed their regular drink orders to Guinan.

"Yes, lots of appointments today. I think this crew is in need of some shore leave," Deanna stated solemnly once they were seated.

Guinan set the drinks down then departed, tending to the other customers at the long bar top.

Riker took a sip. "Agreed. We are scheduled for a stop at Starbase 623 for systems upgrades to the warp core and a few tertiary support systems."

"Any idea where we'll be off to next?" Deanna asked.

Riker looked around then back to Troi. Lowering his voice he said, "Nothing confirmed, but the Federation has received reports about recent Breen incursions near some of our settlements on outlying systems. We might be sent to investigate."

Riker shuttered subtly, but Troi caught it. She knew why he didn't like interacting with the Breen. They were a mysterious, yet brutal race that had been suspected of multiple atrocities in numerous sectors over the years. Yet their involvement could never been substantiated with hard evidence.

The mention of the Breen brought other memories back to Deanna's mind. The Breen were said to live on a cold, snow covered planet. But it wasn't images of the Breen that manifested in her mind's eye.

"You okay?" Riker questioned.

Troi blinked. "Yes, sorry. My mind just wandered for a bit. The Breen. Not a race I'm looking forward to confronting, especially since my skills would be useless against them."

Riker frowned. "Right. Empaths can't read them."

Troi nodded.

"Hey, as long as we don't have to go to their alleged home world," Riker commented easily. "I've had my fill of snow covered planets. Enough to last a lifetime. And that's saying a lot coming from this Alaska boy."

Troi forced a smile to her lips. Every now and again, Will would make an off-hand comment or quip about their short, yet intense time on Sardis. Generally, he didn't mean anything by the comments. That unexpected ordeal had been years ago, and just like most of everyone else, Deanna assumed Riker's memories and feelings about what they'd experienced had faded. Everyone except Deanna herself, of course. She hadn't forgotten and she never planned to let those memories disappear.

Will's combadge chirped, interrupting Deann's inner thoughts.

Data's voice bled through the device. "Bridge to Commander Riker."

With a sigh, Will set down his drink and tapped the badge. "Riker here."

"Sir, please report to the bridge immediately. Incoming transmission from Starbase 623."

"On my way," Riker replied. He smiled apologetically to Deanna. "Sorry."

"Duty calls, Will," Deanna replied.

"Dinner later this week perhaps?" he asked.

"Sure."

Riker's smile was enthusiastic and genuine. With a nod he spun on his heel and left Ten Forward.

Deanna's eyes remained on the doors well after they'd closed. As a result, she didn't notice Guinan until the other woman spoke. "Another?"

Deanna returned her attention to the bar. "No thanks. I think I'll retire for the evening."

Guinan seemed to accept that. Deanna finished her drink and set the empty glass down. Guinan simply said, "Have a nice evening, Counselor."

Deanna responded with her own farewell and departed.

It hadn't taken long for Deanna to make her way back to her quarters. She was tired, but had decided to review her appointment schedule for the following day before heading to bed. She'd just finished making a few annotations in her log when the door chimed, indicating someone was outside.

She set the padd down. "Come in."

She'd half expected to see Will standing there, requesting to have that dinner or finish up the drinks from earlier. To Deanna's surprise, it was Guinan.

"Guinan," Deanna stated, a hint of unexpectedness creeping into her voice. "What can I do for you?"

"I hope I'm not interrupting, Counselor."

Deanna motioned for Guinan to come inside. "Not at all. I was just working on some notes for my appointments tomorrow. What can I do for you?"

Guinan was never one to hesitate, but something in the woman's stance concerned Troi. "Is everything alright?" she inquired when Guinan didn't respond straight away.

The El-Aurian woman sighed. "I'm sorry if what I say makes it sound like I was eavesdropping earlier, Counselor."

Deanna smiled. "I imagine you overhear plenty of conversations in Ten Forward just by happenstance. I'd hardly categorize that as eavesdropping."

Guinan's posture relaxed. She lips upturned into her usual soft smile. "True. But it wasn't your conversation that brought me here. More so, your demeanor."

Troi's head tilted slightly to the side. "What do you mean?"

"I saw how your body changed when you thought about him," Guinan stated matter-of-factly.

"Commander Riker?" Deanna asked, but she didn't sound convincing even to herself.

Again Guinan smiled. She shook her head. "Even after all these years you still think of him with fondness. The others have probably forgotten, or chosen to forget, but not you, Counselor. And I understand how you feel. Four years ago, when I learned Andrej Prazak was still alive, I felt the same way. He has that effect on people."

"Guinan, I'm not quite following," Deanna breathed. For a brief moment, she felt herself panic. Fear crept into her heart. She wasn't sure why.

She stood rooted in place. Guinan walked over and held out her hand. Deanna hadn't noticed until that moment, but Guinan had kept her hands behind her back. But visible now, Deanna saw the El-Aurian held a strange looking device. It was similar to a data padd.

"What,-" Deanna's breath hitched in her throat.

"Not Starfleet technology. Just something I acquired a long time ago. I held on to it just in case I ever needed it. Four years ago I realized I needed it. It cannot connect in real time, but there's data stored on it. I thought you'd like to see. It also has the ability to record and send data to the other device."

Deanna took the communication unit. "Dare I ask who has the other device?"

Guinan's answer came only in the form a brighter smile.

"You've had this all these years?" Deanna asked. She flipped the device over in her hands, examining it. She had no idea where the technology had originated from; nothing about it was familiar.

Guinan nodded. "I was never sure of the right moment to share my little secret with you. Things would happen, missions would come up, etcetera. I've always wanted to share this with you, but I just could never find the right time. Well, I think now is the right time."

"Does he know?" Deanna whispered. She lifted her eyes from the device to look into Guinan's gaze. "Does he know you're sharing this with me?"

Guinan chuckled. "Have a pleasant evening, Counselor. And don't worry, no one knows about this. And I'm sure it'll stay that way if you know what I mean. I wouldn't want the Captain to find out that I've been holding back on some of my…knowledge of alien technologies."

Troi looked up from the device. Smiling, she nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Guinan."

"Of course, Counselor."

Guinan showed herself out. Deanna wasn't sure how long she'd stood in the center of her quarters before her legs started to move. She stopped at the replicator for a cup of tea then settled comfortably onto the couch, the stars flittering by in the windows behind her.

Activating the device was easy enough. A number of entries appeared on the screen. Deanna chose the most recent one and settled back.

She smiled. Andrej's face and chest appeared on the screen. He looked the same as she remembered. Deanna couldn't help but smile and roll her eyes a little at the fact that he was bare chested.

 _Typical Andrej._

He was alone, but only for a few seconds. A little boy climbed into view and wrapped his arms around Andrej's neck. Deanna knew at once the boy was Andrej's son. He bore a striking resemblance to his father. Deanna recalled how Andrej had once mentioned that time passed differently on Sardis, the child still appeared to be a bit older than four years old.

"Hello again," Prazak said with a grin. "Say hello, Ludvik."

The boy turned to the camera, unfurled an arm from Andrej's neck, waved, and grinned. "Hello, Guinan."

"Ludvik wanted to make another video. He loves them."

"Yeah!" the boy cried happily.

Deanna felt her grin widening. Ludvik was a normal, happy little boy; full of enthusiasm and excitement.

"Papa is taking me to Tega Peak soon," Ludvik said. "I wanna see it. I wanna see where he fought. Soon I'll be as big and strong and brave as my papa."

Prazak laughed and looked at the camera. "The courtyard isn't nearly as exciting for him as the mountains."

Deanna knew Andrej was referring to the famous battle Prazak had fought during Starfleet's time there. The battle that saved his people from being enslaved.

"I get to see before Isabella!" Ludvik belted out.

Troi's eyebrows arched at that.

The boy started to squirm. "Okay, Ludvik, why don't you go help your mama? Or play with Zoja."

"Yes, papa," Ludvik agreed. Before he hopped down from his father's grasp, the boy planted a quick kiss on Prazak's stubbly cheek. "Love you!"

Prazak's eyes followed the boy off screen. When he looked back, he said, "So, Ludvik ruined the surprise. Sa and I had another child. A little girl. Isabella Troy."

Deanna's breath caught in her throat.

Prazak shrugged then winked. "I'm sure you can figure that one out. No one could ever slip one by you, Guinan. We chose Isabella after Sa's maternal grandmother, the Lady Isabella. An Sa agreed to the middle name after I _also_ explained some of Earth's most fearsome warriors fought at Troy during the Trojan War. Isabella is just over a year old now and she's beautiful. My little princezna. I'd show her to you, but she's sleeping at the moment. Would you believe that Herschel and Marking have gone soft because of her? It's like they adore her more than I do! Ha! Wilhelm asked if there was any way you could send some old fairy tale files." Andrej rolled his eyes jokingly. "From the way he boasts you'd think he wrote those stories himself, not his ancestors!"

Prazak paused for a few seconds. He took a number of deep breaths. "Anyway, I hope Deanna is doing well. I know you tell me she is, but…I still miss her. Things are fine, for the most part, with Sa and I, but I'll never forget Deanna. Clearly she meant something to me if I partially named my daughter after her! Just…if you can, if you think it's okay…just tell her…just let her know that she's not forgotten."

At that moment, Ludvik reappeared, jumping back into Prazak's lap. "Mama needs your help with dinner."

Prazak grinned. Deanna noted it was such a happy, contented look: Andrej couldn't be prouder of his son. "I'll be right there, Ludvik. Say bye to Guinan for now."

"Bye, Guinan!" Ludvik waved enthusiastically before he slid off Andrej's lap as quickly as he'd climbed up.

"We'll call again soon," Prazak stated. "Next time you can meet Isabella. Take care, old friend."

The video ended. Troi sat still for a long moment, the images from the short video, Andrej's voice, his looks, his happiness, continuing to play over and over in her mind. And Ludvik. Little Ludvik's adorableness and pride in his father was enough to make anyone's heart melt.

When Deanna finally pick up her tea and took a sip, she discovered it had gone cold. Kicking her legs out from under her, she stood and went to the replicator for a fresh cup.

Back at the couch she settled in once again. This time she went to the first entry on the list. She started the video.

* * *

Prazak had lived alone in the Empress' Tower for so long that he'd grown accustomed to the stone structure's familiarity. But that had changed when he'd committed himself to raising his first child with Lady Sa. But now, returning home to where he lived with Sa and his children felt less strange with each passing day.

He'd moved into Sa's home in the noble's district. Now his home. It had been difficult at first, and at times it still was, but after Ludvik was born the struggle had lessened. Becoming a mother had both calmed and driven Sa. She no longer put herself and her noble friends first. For her it was all about the family. And Prazak had adjusted as well. It had been so long since he'd been a father that he wasn't sure he'd be able to adjust. But he had and then a year ago, their second child was born.

Prazak still held his position as Supreme Commander of Tarina's army, but he'd delegated most of the mundane duties to other officers. Ever since the Ti'hi shaman and lieutenant had surrendered unconditionally life had been relatively peaceful on Sardis.

There had been a few uprising from disgruntled dissidents within the Ti'hi, but nothing ever developed into more than small skirmishes. The captured Ti'hi from Baut's invasion had eventually been freed to return to their homes, under the terms that if they were ever captured again during a revolt they would be summarily executed. Again, this had only happened a few times in the four years since Prazak's famous battle with the Chieftain. Prazak never saw the shaman again after she was let go.

Even with peace, Prazak refused to get complacent, hence his continuation of training and preparing his army. Just because the Ti'hi had been defeated didn't mean a new threat would never arise. And now, more than ever, he wanted Sardis to remain free. For his children. For everyone.

Stepping across the threshold of his luxurious manor, Prazak headed to kitchen where he knew his family would be gathered. They had no servants. Some of the noble families still employed servants, but it was purely on mutual terms. Tarina had made sure that the nobility, after discovering how poorly Count Formic treated those under his employ, paid their staff appropriately and treated them with kindness and respect.

He greeted Sa with a kiss. The entire room smelled of spices, cooking meat and seasoned vegetables. It reminded him how spent his evening training session had been: his stomach rumbled.

She returned the kiss. "All's well in the kingdom?" she asked with a smile.

Prazak smirked a little. "Of course. Between training, I spent most of today doing paperwork. Just like yesterday. And just like I'll be doing tomorrow."

"The ceremony is tomorrow," Sa said as she checked on the rack of meat cooking on a spit in the oven of the large stone hearth.

He hadn't forgotten. He'd been spending most of his time over the last few weeks in preparation meetings for the event. The ceremony, combined with a three day festive jubilee, was to honor Empress Tarina's birthday and continued reign. "Right," Prazak said.

The pattering of little feet on the stone floor announced Ludvik's entrance into the kitchen. Sprinting as hard as his little legs could carry him, he stretched out his arms and lunged for Andrej. "Papa!"

"Little Ludvik," Prazak wrapped the boy up in his arms and lifted him high for a hug, "I trust you were good today."

"Always," Ludvik responded immediately.

"Your lessons?" Prazak inquired with an arched eyebrow.

"History and reading today, papa," Ludvik said. "We learned more about The Kindly One. I read two whole pages aloud all by myself!"

"His teacher said he did a marvelous job," Sa added.

"That's my boy." Prazak pecked the boy on the side of the head then set him down. Ludvik ran off just as Zoja sauntered gracefully into the room. Ludvik ran by the big cat, prompting her to turn and bound after the boy.

Andrej watched them go. Zoja had always been protective of Andrej, but after Ludvik was born, the big Davnora cat's instincts had kicked into full gear. Even though she'd never had cubs of her own, she protected the boy as if he was one. In the cat's mind that's probably exactly how she saw him. Andrej guessed it would be the same when Isabella grew up.

Prazak went to the nearby crib. Reaching in, he gently picked up his infant daughter. She had her mother's eyes, but Prazak's dark hair. To Andrej she was the most precious thing in the world. "My baby girl," he whispered, rocking her in his arms. Isabella smiled, sticking her tongue out a little, then giggled in that way that babies do.

"She's been feisty today, but settled down as soon as you walked in the door. Like she could sense you," Sa explained as she came up to his side.

"My little princezna knows when her daddy is home." Prazak grinned.

Isabella's eyes squeezed shut as she smiled. Lifting her to his lips, Prazak planted a kiss on his daughter's forehead then set her back down in the handcrafted crib.

"I'm going to get cleaned up," Prazak told Sa.

She nodded while tucking Isabella's blanket around the baby. "Alright."

Moving through the manor, he stopped off at his home office suite to put up his longsword. Prazak caught the flashing light on his communication device from the corner of his eye.

Smiling, he made sure the sword was properly secured before moving to pick up the device. "Haven't heard from you in some time, old friend," he said aloud as he activated the device Guinan had secretly given him years ago.

Settling down in the chair behind his desk, Prazak activated the latest message. He blinked with astonishment when Deanna Troi appeared on the screen. She'd straightened her hair, but she remained as beautiful as he remembered. From what he could see of her clothing, she wasn't wearing her standard Starfleet uniform, but a more comfortable looking outfit. Andrej knew, from Guinan, that Deanna was still the _Enterprise'_ s counselor, so he figured she was currently off duty.

The message started.

"Hello, Andrej," Deanna said, her black orbs shining in the strange artificial light of her room. "I'm not really sure where to start. I never really expected to be communicating with you again. But I'm glad for it. Very glad. Obviously Guinan shared this with me. I watched all of your messages. I hope you don't think that intrusive of me."

Andrej smiled.

 _Typical Deanna._

She paused to let out a deep sigh. "When I heard you asking about me, talking about me, I was honestly touched. I found it comforting that you hadn't forgotten about me. I haven't forgotten about you either. Seeing you, hearing your voice, even on this screen brought back so many memories for me. All of them. The good and the bad, but mostly the good. Those are the things I choose to remember."

"Me too," he said aloud.

She was still speaking. "Your son. Oh Andrej, your son is so beautiful. And the way he adores you…you must be so proud. I know you'll be an amazing father. That you already are. And I really hope to one day see your daughter on here. That's if we can continue to communicate and share our lives this way. Again, I hope I'm not being impertinent in asking such a thing. When I heard that you named your little girl after me, my face blushed and my skin warmed. That means so much to me. It really does."

She paused again. "I must be rambling. But I'm happy that you and Sa have figured out a way to make a life together. For yourselves and your children. And that Sardis is still free. Your sacrifices did not go unrewarded. As for me, well, life on the _Enterprise_ can be an ordeal at times. So many people depend on me and I love helping them, yet having my own time to decompress is a blessing. These messages helped me in that regards this evening. Will and I are, well, not much has changed there. I don't know if we'll end up together. Perhaps one day. For now we are content with remaining friends."

Andrej watched her stifle a yawn. It made him smile. He remembered her doing the same the mornings after they'd made love. His eyes drifted closed as those memories of her entered his mind. He really did miss her.

He opened his eyes and returned to the message. Deanna was smiling. "I should be going. I have a long day tomorrow and I've already stayed awake half the night with your messages. I just couldn't stop. I hope Guinan will let me use this again so we can talk some more. I miss you, Andrej. This makes me feel that we are still connected. Not physically together, not even telepathically linked, but that we still share something. That we always will. Take care of yourself, Andrej. And your family. Until next time."

The message ended. He played it again. After it came to an end the second time, Andrej sat motionless for a great while. His eyes stared at the device, but he was really only seeing the memories of Deanna Troi. His heart beat in his chest and he was awash with emotions that ranged from happiness and contentment to sadness and separation.

"Papa?"

Ludvik's voice pulled Andrej back to reality. He set the device down. "Yes, son?"

"Are you okay?" Ludvik asked. He hovered at the door of Andrej's office. Due to his work and his weaponry, Ludvik was only allowed into the room when Andrej gave him permission. Zoja was with him and Ludvik had a hand buried in the cat's furry neck.

Pulling open one of the desk drawers, Andrej dropped the device inside. He shut it then entered a code onto the security panel on the desk to lock the drawer.

Standing he went to his son. "I'm fine, Ludvik. I just got lost in my thoughts for a moment, that's all."

"You looked sad." The boy frowned.

"I'm not sad," Andrej replied truthfully. Those emotions had passed.

Zoja's chest rumbled and her eyes flashed a number of colors until settling back to their normal ice blue.

Andrej took his son's other hand. "Come. Let's go help your mama with dinner. Afterwards we can work on your outfit for the Empress' jubilee. Then we can choose a belora flower from the bushes outside. Choose the one you want to give to the Empress. How's that sound?"

Ludvik bounced on his heels. "Yea!"

Andrej squeezed the boy's hand. "I love you, Ludvik."

"I love you too, papa."

Andrej was truly happy at that moment. He'd wait until his family retired for the evening and then send a message back to Deanna. He needed to let her know that even across the galaxy she was still part of his life. And that she always would be.

* * *

 **THE END**

 **A/N: Again, thank you to everyone that has read and (hopefully) enjoyed this story. Its one I've been wanting to write for a very long time and I'm glad I finally finished it. Again, thank you.**


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